Gardens in the Rain
by wildcat7898
Summary: Eleven months after Uhura is transferred to the Lexington, the Lexington and the Enterprise are assigned to a joint mission that quickly becomes more complicated than anyone had predicted. This is part 5 of "Fire, Wind, and Water: The Debussy Suite."
1. Chapter 1

Title: Fire, Wind, and Water: The Debussy Suite 5, Gardens in the Rain

Author: Wildcat

Series: TOS

Rating: M

Codes: S/U

Summary: Eleven months after Uhura is transferred to the Lexington, the Lexington and the Enterprise are assigned to a joint mission that quickly becomes more complicated than anyone had predicted. This takes place after the events described in the following stories:

A Woman's Touch

The Taste of Snow

Almost a Kiss

You Would Even Say She Glows

The Flame Within

Fire, Wind, and Water 1: What the West Wind Saw

Fire, Wind, and Water 2: The Isle of Joy

Fire, Wind, and Water 3: Dialogue of the Wind and Sea

Fire, Wind, and Water 4: Bells Through the Leaves

Note that this is part five of Fire, Wind, and Water: The Debussy Suite.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Uhura, and company. I have just borrowed them for a while, and I will not profit from any of this.

Thanks to Claude Debussy for his piano composition, "Jardins sous le Pluie," from which the title was taken.

Also, thanks to my beta readers, Jungle Kitty, ebonbird, and Gayle.

"Fire, Wind, and Water: The Debussy Suite won 1st place for "Best S/U Story," 3rd place for "Best TOS Story" and Honorable Mention for "Best Overall Story" in the 1998 Golden O Awards.

Feedback is desired.

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 1

Rubbing her hair with a towel, Uhura walked from the shower to her computer. What would she like to hear while getting ready this morning? The Lexington was en route to a rendezvous and today would be a wonderful day, so it should be something happy. Something uplifting, something joyous...

She draped the towel around her shoulders and smiled.

"Computer. Play 'Gardens in the Rain' by Claude Debussy."

A torrent of rapid, precise notes filled the air of her cabin, and she walked back into the bathroom. This music, energetic and driving, with its unceasing rhythms, lush harmonies, and exhilarating sunrise at the end, would be perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Just like her day.

...

"Captain? We're being hailed."

Swiveling in her chair, Uhura tried her best to keep her voice calm and professional, but she could tell by Captain Ames' expression that she wasn't entirely successful.

He grinned. "On screen, Commander."

They all turned toward the front of the bridge as the image on the viewscreen was replaced by the smiling face of Admiral Kirk, with Spock and Dr. McCoy visible behind him. Spock stood calmly with his hands clasped behind his back. As always, his demeanor was formal, and he gave no hint of what he was truly thinking. McCoy, though, grinned from ear to ear, and she didn't miss the quick little glance he threw in Spock's direction. The three men were posed as she had seen them so many times before, and her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest at the welcome, familiar scene.

Although now that she thought about it, something was slightly different... Of course! She laughed softly at the realization. She was so accustomed to seeing their backsides that everything seemed as if it were reversed from this angle. She abandoned any hope of keeping her dignified smile from turning into a huge grin as she left her seat to stand behind the captain.

"Welcome, Enterprise!" said Ames. "We're glad you could make it to our little party."

Kirk chuckled. "Let's hope you don't end up with more guests than you'd expected."

"That's why we're here, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Have you seen any signs of activity since your last report?"

"No sir, we have not, but they're getting bolder every day. What's your ETA?"

Kirk looked at Spock, who answered, "At our present speed, we shall arrive at your coordinates in twenty-two point eight minutes."

Ames nodded. "We'll be waiting for you."

"Until then, Captain. Kirk out."

The screen was filled once again with the star-speckled blackness of deep space, and Uhura returned to her station. She couldn't stop smiling, though. Twenty-two minutes! She hadn't seen Spock for four long months, and suddenly twenty-two minutes seemed like an eternity. Of course, they probably wouldn't find a chance to talk privately until tonight, but at least she would be in the same room with him, able to hear his voice and see his face, near enough maybe to feel the heat of his body, so close that she could touch him if she only reached out.

Taking a deep breath, she turned back toward her board and tried to find something that would keep her busy for twenty-two long minutes.

...

Twenty-eight point four minutes later, Spock strode hastily through the corridors with Admiral Kirk and Dr. McCoy. The team from the Lexington was due to beam over at any moment, and if the three of them did not move quickly, it was possible they would not be present to greet Captain Ames, Commander Lenox, and Commander Uhura. Of course, Spock did not wish for that to happen, for it was standard procedure to welcome the command team of a sister vessel personally. Such an omission would be impolite. And, although he hesitated to admit it to himself, he did not wish to wait any longer than required to see Nyota again. Such haste was illogical, for he and she would certainly have more than enough time together in the days to come, but he could not deny his eagerness.

He happened to look over at McCoy to find the doctor watching him with a rather smug expression on his face.

"In a hurry, Spock?"

Spock faced forward again. "To miss the arrival of the Lexington's senior officers would be improper."

"Uh huh."

McCoy's tone was heavy with sarcastic skepticism, but Spock chose to ignore him, and they walked in silence until McCoy spoke again.

"You know, too bad we can't just beam ourselves right to the transporter room. That way, there'd be no chance we'd miss it when Uhura-whoops, excuse me-the senior officers came on board."

Deliberately misunderstanding, Spock said, "Are you finding the pace difficult, Doctor? If this is too strenuous, perhaps you should walk more slowly and catch up with us later."

"You wish, Spock, but there's no way I'm going to miss seeing the look on your face when Uhura materializes on that transporter pad. She's going to wonder, though, why we're all puffing like we just ran the hundred meter dash."

"You haven't seen her since London, have you?" asked Kirk. "How long has that been?"

"Four months, two weeks, and three point four days."

McCoy snickered. "Not that you're counting or anything."

Spock raised an eyebrow but did not respond, and a moment later they swept into the transporter room.

"Any word yet from the Lexington?"

Mr. Scott, standing behind the transporter controls, nodded. "Aye, Admiral. They're assembling the boarding party right now. I'm just awaiting their signal."

As Spock took his place in front of the transporter pad, he thought about the events of four months, two weeks, and three point four days ago. He had risen stealthily that last morning, dressed in the dark, then stood by the bed and watched Nyota sleep. His chest tight, he had wanted to awaken her. He had known that there was much he needed to tell her, and in his mind he had rehearsed his explanation of why their violent sexual encounter had so disturbed him. In the end, however, the words had been left unsaid. He had let her sleep until the last moment, and then he had departed in haste.

A beep from the transporter console interrupted his thoughts, and he realized that he could feel his heart pounding. Ensuring that no hint of his inner turmoil showed on his face, he faced the transporter pad.

Scott smiled. "There's the signal. Energizing."

Three figures gradually formed before him, and before she had even completely materialized, he knew that she searched for him. He had never comprehended the human expression 'a sight for sore eyes,' but as their gazes locked, he suddenly knew exactly what it meant. She was, indeed, a most welcome sight to his eyes. He allowed himself a small almost-smile before he turned to greet Captain Ames.

Admiral Kirk had already moved forward. "Welcome to the Enterprise, Captain Ames, Commander Lenox. And welcome back, Commander Uhura."

The three newcomers stepped down from the transporter platform, and Spock found himself standing very close to Nyota. Her demeanor was composed while greetings were exchanged all around, but he noticed that she did not leave his side. And when she turned to greet him, the smooth professionalism of her voice was very much at odds with the look in her eyes.

He allowed his gaze to linger on hers until they were forced to exit the room.

...

"As you can see by the red symbols on the map, Klingon activity in the neutral zone has increased substantially. This display shows the pattern of incursions in the ten-month period prior to stardate 3923.1. Watch what happens when I overlay that with what we've detected since then. You can see that in just two months, it has more than doubled. And it seems to be concentrated in this area, here."

Pacing restlessly, Commander Lenox gestured at the stylized star chart displayed at the front of the conference room. He had run his fingers through his wiry red hair so many times that it stood on end, and Kirk tried not to smile as he saw shades of his own youthful intensity in Lenox's demeanor. It was interesting to notice how well Lenox's energy balanced Ames' laid-back ease. He had to admit that he'd questioned Starfleet's choice of the inexperienced Lenox as Ames' first officer-the man had spent his entire career on the ground-but he was beginning to see the wisdom in the pairing. And by adding Uhura's compassionate and level-headed personality to the mix as second officer, Starfleet had ensured that Lenox's inexperience would not be a problem.

Spock, seated between Uhura and Scotty, asked, "Have you considered the fact that this could be a ruse? I find it unlikely that the Klingons would be so flagrant in their demonstration of interest."

"Yes," replied Uhura. "We have considered that, Mr. Spock, but we can't ignore the fact that the Federation's new dilithium mine on Nistras Three is uncomfortably close to that area. What if we're supposed to think that it's a ruse? It would be disastrous if we concentrated our efforts elsewhere, just because we couldn't believe the Klingons would be so obvious."

He nodded, conceding her point. "It is a complicated situation."

"Commander Lenox, could you show us the tactical overlay again?" asked Kirk

"Of course, Admiral."

The glowing diagram shifted as the emblems of three ships appeared. Kirk could see the Enterprise and the Lexington moving along the neutral zone away from Nistras Three. Another ship, the Athena, was positioned further inside Federation space as a supposed barrier between the neutral zone and the mining colony on Nistras Three. Everyone knew, however, that if the Klingons truly set their sights on reaching Nistras Three, Athena's light armament would be inadequate against them.

Kirk turned toward Captain Ames. "During your patrols, how far from Nistras Three have you ventured?"

"Farther than has been comfortable at times, but we've made a point to cover as much of the Sector Three neutral zone as possible, so we generally don't turn around until we reach Epsilon Triana. I know that there's nothing there, but since the furthermost confirmed report of Klingon activity occurred nearby, I don't want to leave it out."

Kirk rubbed his chin as he gazed at the star chart. "I tend to agree with Spock that their target must be something other than the dilithium mines. From everything intelligence has been able to gather, the Klingons have all the dilithium they need on Kronos, so why would they go to so much trouble to investigate one of our mines? But I can't see anything else that looks like it's worth their interest."

"I agree with you completely, Admiral, but until we discover what they're after, I recommend that we keep both ships on patrol, and that we stay together."

"Agreed. Spock, dig around and see what you can find that might be worthy of our friends' interest. Work with Lenox and Uhura, and anyone else you might need."

"Yes, sir."

Looking at Ames, Kirk continued. "In the meanwhile, Captain Ames and I will watch for the Klingons. I think that we should stick to your established routine, Captain. The Klingons are bound to be alert to the fact that something has changed now that the Enterprise is here, but maybe if we don't do anything overtly different, they'll be lulled back into complacency."

Ames nodded. "That sounds like a good plan, Admiral."

"All right, then let's get to work." Kirk stood. "Dismissed."

End chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 2

Her hand on her back, Uhura stood and stretched, then leaned over Spock's shoulder to look closer at the computer display in front of him. She took a deep breath, trying not to become frustrated, but it wasn't easy. They had been in this small conference room for seven long hours, breaking only to eat supper, and they were no further along than when they started.

"Spock, I thought that you were on to something with that graph, but now I'm not so sure. I can't see any pattern there."

"No." Spock sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Neither can I."

From his seat at the table, Lenox pushed away his padd. "Why don't we stop for the day? Maybe a good night's sleep will allow us to look at it with a fresh perspective in the morning."

Punchy with exhaustion, Uhura had to stifle the impulse to grin when Spock glanced up and met her eyes. She looked forward to many things tonight, but a good night's sleep wasn't one of them. She turned toward Lenox before she gave herself away.

Touching him lightly on the arm, she said, "I think that's an excellent idea, Hayden. A few of my old friends are gathering tonight in the officer's lounge for a drink. Would you like to join us?"

"No thanks, Nyota. I think that I'd rather just go back and relax. You have fun." Lenox straightened his things and stood. "I'll see you both in the morning."

Nodding politely, he left the conference room, and Uhura finally found herself alone with Spock. She sat down and rested her chin on her hands as he turned to face her.

"I've missed you so much," she said. "It almost killed me when we had to scrap our trip to the Mozart Festival on Starbase Eight."

He reached across the table and held up his hand with two fingers extended, and she quickly pressed her hand to his.

"I assume that you are exaggerating," he murmured.

"Maybe I am, but it was a real disappointment."

"Canceling our plans did not please me, either, but it was important that I remain on board for the duration of our assignment to Paklet Prime."

"I know. But that didn't make it any easier. Now that we're finally together, all I want to do is drag you away to a place where we can be alone. Someplace where there's no possibility of anyone walking in on us."

"We will locate such a place later, but for now you are expected in the officers lounge."

She sighed. "Yes, I know. Scotty would kill me if I stood him up."

"You will enjoy yourself once there. I will accompany you and ensure that you do not linger too long, however."

She stood. "I don't think you need to worry about that. Come on, let's go."

Spock stepped back to allow her to precede him out of the conference room. "Do you wish to return to your quarters first?"

"No, I'd rather go ahead now. Really, I am looking forward to this. It's been way too long since I saw my old friends. But I'll definitely be thinking about later the entire time." She was quiet as a crewmember passed them in the hall. Once they were alone again, she lowered her voice and looked at him suggestively. "So help me out. Give me something to think about."

Raising an eyebrow, he met her eyes. She wasn't sure if he would participate in her little game, especially right here in the corridor while in his guise as the highly professional Vulcan first officer, but soon he faced forward and said, "Will we retire to your quarters or mine?"

She laughed, delighted at the incongruity of his words with his demeanor. Judging by his expression, anyone watching them would think they were discussing the latest mission! She tried her best to keep her voice as level as his when she replied.

"How about yours? Since I'm already here, it might be awkward for us to go over to the Lexington so late in the evening."

"That is a reasonable observation. Very well. When we leave the officers' lounge, we will walk to my quarters. We will not hurry, because we know that we have all night."

"Really?" She couldn't hide her surprise. "I was afraid that you might be uncomfortable with my leaving at some ungodly hour."

He shook his head. "I do not consider that a problem. We will exercise caution when you exit my quarters. In addition, the crew is accustomed to seeing us together, so our walking through the corridors should not strike anyone as extraordinary."

"What about beaming back and forth between the ships? You know that I'm going to want you to come over to the Lexington sometimes."

"I anticipate considerable traffic between the two ships. It is likely that the transporter technician will think nothing of it, but if we arouse suspicion, we can modify our behavior at that time."

She smiled. "You've given this some consideration."

"Yes. I have."

"All right. I like the way you think. So we walk leisurely to your quarters. What happens next?"

"We enter. Once the door is closed, we turn to one another. We have anticipated this moment all evening, but still we do not rush. I reach for you, resting my fingertips lightly against your meld points. Your eyes drift shut, and you welcome me into your mind."

A tightness began to creep into her belly. She licked her lips and murmured, "Go on."

"Your thoughts are warm and soothing on the surface, but as I delve deeper I find desire. My thoughts mingle with yours, touching, caressing, merging, and when our minds are one, I move my hands to your garments. You do the same for mine. We slowly disrobe one another, and when our bodies are revealed, we walk to the bedroom."

Tugging on her collar, she said, "Oh, my. Spock." She swallowed before continuing. "What happens next?"

"You shall have to wait and see."

Grinning not only at his answer but at her own rubbery knees, she asked, "Have you been planning this? Did you just tell me one of your fantasies?"

He finally allowed a glimmer of humor to cross his face. "The answer to both questions is no. I was improvising."

Her eyes widened at the darkness in his expression. He might act amused at her reaction, but she could tell by looking at him that she wasn't the only aroused person here.

"Spock, why don't we swing by your quarters now?"

"No. You wished to have something to think about, and now you do."

"Whew." She took a deep breath. "Do I ever."

He nodded before responding with exaggeratedly precise enunciation. "As do I."

They approached the door to the officers' lounge. Taking another deep breath to compose herself, she laughed when she noticed that Spock did exactly the same thing.

Looking up at him, she said, "Ready?"

"Yes."

They stepped through the door, and she couldn't believe her eyes. She had expected to see only her closest friends sitting around a table as they had so many times in the past, but what she found was a much larger group. She smiled and turned quickly to Spock.

"Did you know?"

He nodded.

She was immediately surrounded by her old friends, and she threw a quick glance in his direction before she allowed herself to be pulled away from him.

...

Kirk stood quietly with McCoy. The party had died down considerably, and he was taking a few minutes to enjoy his brandy in easy companionship. From across the room, he heard a soft peal of feminine laughter, and he smiled at the sound. Sulu and Scotty were huddled with a woman from stellar cartography, but Kirk saw from the expression on Sulu's face that he knew he was the odd man out. Sure enough, a moment later Sulu excused himself to refill his glass, and he sat down with a small group of the more die-hard party-goers.

The only other occupants of the officers' lounge stood side-by-side in front of the window, their backs to the room and their heads moving gently as they talked to one another in the dim light. It was as if they had drawn a cocoon of intimacy around themselves, and even though he was fairly certain that no one but McCoy and himself knew they were lovers, the others apparently sensed that they were sharing a private moment and left them alone.

As he watched, Uhura tilted her face up to Spock's and smiled, then leaned close enough to just barely brush his arm with her shoulder. When she straightened, she didn't look away immediately; Spock's expression was soft as their eyes met, and she appeared to be caught in his gaze. Kirk took a sip of his brandy and remembered his surprise when he first learned of their relationship, but watching them now, how could they not have ended up together? It was so obviously right.

"Makes you wonder how their secret is still a secret, doesn't it?"

Kirk turned toward McCoy. "Actually, I was just wondering how much longer they would stick around here before slipping away."

"They've been apart for 'four months, two weeks, and three point,' uh, something days? I'd say they're doing well to have stayed this long." McCoy laughed, but an instant later his smile faded. "Oh no, here they come. Do you think Spock heard me? Shhh."

They both looked up as Spock and Uhura approached.

"It's getting late, and I think that we're, uh, I'm going to call it a night." Grimacing slightly at her mistake, she glanced at the group seated around the nearby table, but no one paid any attention.

Snickering, McCoy said, "Well, _you_ have a good night."

Spock raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

She rolled her eyes in embarrassment. "Anyway, thank you for coming tonight. I'll see you both in the morning."

"See you then," said Kirk.

Waving quickly at the other people in the room, she walked toward the door with Spock right behind her. Kirk really hadn't expected them to leave together, but then again, no one would think anything of it. Spock had always been very solicitous of her, often escorting her to her quarters after group functions. As the door slid shut behind them, though, Kirk happened to turn back toward the center of the room just in time to see Sulu smile and raise both eyebrows at the sight.

Well. Maybe he and McCoy weren't the only people who knew.

...

Finally beginning to drift away with her cheek resting comfortably on Spock's chest, Uhura was roused again when he smoothed the hair on the top of her head for the umpteenth time. It was obviously tickling his face. They'd tried sleeping on their sides with his body pressed up against her back, but between his heat and the heat of his quarters, she'd thought she was going to suffocate. He'd even lowered the room temperature for her, but when it had reached a level that she thought was comfortable, he had become chilled.

Now she remembered why they had never liked to sleep in his small bunk.

"Spock."

"Yes, Nyota?"

"This isn't working."

He was silent for a moment. "Perhaps I could move closer to the edge of the bed and turn away. Our positions would be similar to when I was against your back, although reversed, and you would have space to distance yourself from me if you became overheated."

"Okay. Let's give it a try."

They shifted until his back was to her, and she stretched and snuggled down into the pillow. Much better. Except...

"Spock, are you hanging off the edge of the bed?"

"Not entirely."

Shaking her head, she leaned forward to kiss him on the back of the neck. "Maybe I should just return to the Lexington, and tomorrow we'll sleep in my quarters. I was able to requisition a large bed. It will be much more comfortable than this."

He rolled back over to face her. "I do not wish for you to leave, but if you remain, I fear you will not be alert in the morning. And you will be exhausted by the end of the day."

"I'll get dressed and go on back. You stay in bed."

She walked to the other room and began rummaging through the tangle of clothes that were strewn just inside the door to his quarters, and she smiled as she remembered how they had come together earlier. It had been exactly as he had described, slow and careful, until they reached the part where they undressed each other and walked to the bedroom. Somehow, they never made it that far, ending up instead on the floor right in the middle of his outer room.

She realized that he was standing behind her regarding the pile of clothing, and she waved a shirt at him. "This one is yours. Do you see mine?"

Glancing around, he retrieved it from the seat of a nearby chair and handed it to her without comment.

She laughed. "How did it get way over there?"

"Evidently that is where I dropped it."

She stood to put on her underwear. "We have a briefing with Admiral Kirk and Captain Ames first thing today, don't we?"

"Yes, although it will likely be a very quick briefing since we were unable to gain any insights yesterday."

"I know." She frowned and pulled her shirt over her head. "Maybe we'll have better luck today."

"Luck? Luck has nothing to do with it. We are highly trained officers with an arsenal of the most powerful equipment available. I am confident that we will require nothing more than our own abilities to solve this mystery."

She closed her skirt and stepped into her boots. "Don't discount luck, Spock. You know as well as I do that sometimes you just flat get lucky."

"Sometimes events unfold in a beneficial manner, but it is not luck."

"Mmmm. Right." She stepped close and slid her arms around his neck. "So you're saying that I shouldn't consider myself lucky to have you?"

The corner of his mouth turned up as he placed his hands on her hips. "Not at all. If you wish to consider yourself lucky, I will not object. However, luck did not bring us together, and it does not keep us together."

"And what, in your opinion, brought us together and keeps us together?"

"Basic compatibility. Mutual attraction. Shared interests and common goals."

She was quiet for a moment as she gazed up at him. "What about love?"

Instead of answering, he bent his head and kissed her tenderly. She would give anything to hear him actually say the words, but she knew that he was expressing himself the best he could. And it would do.

Finally, he broke the kiss.

"I am not convinced that I wish for you to leave."

"Then ask me to stay."

He released her. "We have much to accomplish today, and it is imperative that you be well-rested. We cannot compromise the mission simply because of our own desires."

"You're right." Pushing her hair into place, she held up her hand. "I'll see you at 0800."

He pressed his fingers to hers. "Until then."

Stepping toward the door, she said, "Computer. Is the corridor outside Commander Spock's quarters empty?"

"Affirmative."

Meeting his eyes one last time, she slipped out the door and headed toward the transporter room.

End chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 3

Kirk strode briskly through the corridors on his way to briefing room three. He had been disappointed this morning to learn that Spock, Uhura, and Lenox hadn't made any progress toward solving their puzzle, but he hadn't been surprised, for they didn't have much to work with in the way of clues. However, the summons he had just received from Uhura sounded very hopeful. Maybe they'd had a breakthrough.

He met Captain Ames outside the door, and they entered the room together. Not wasting any time, Kirk nodded at Uhura and Lenox, then came around the table to stand behind Spock.

"Report."

Spock swiveled the computer screen so that Kirk could see it.

"Until approximately twenty-three minutes ago," he said, "we had concentrated our efforts on searching for a pattern among the recorded incursions. We took into consideration flight paths, destinations, timing, the size of the ships, and a number of other factors."

He glanced up at Kirk, who nodded.

Spock continued. "What we did not consider, however, was the relationship between any single incursion and its 'neighboring' incursions. By neighboring, I do not mean flights with geographic proximity, but rather temporal. We have taken each flight singly and plotted it against all other flights, and this is what we found. Computer, show vessel activity for overlapping three-day periods, incrementing by one day for each display."

Kirk frowned as he watched a series of charts march past. "I'm afraid I don't see anything."

Uhura perched on the edge of the table next to him. "Wait, Admiral."

Looking closer, Kirk was silent. Finally, he said, "There." He pointed at the screen. "And there it is again."

Spock nodded. "Exactly."

Moving closer, Ames said, "There is what again? Commander Uhura?"

She slid off the table. "Computer. Freeze image."

The computer paused. On the screen was a starchart overlaid with the diagram representing all Klingon activity during that three-day period.

Leaning over Spock's shoulder, she tapped the lower portion of the display. "We all know that there has been a great deal of activity in the area of Nistras Three."

Ames smiled. "Oh, yes. On this display alone, I see that the buggers came all the way to the edge of the neutral zone on a direct line for our dilithium mines."

"And of course when they did that, we focused all our attention there," added Lenox.

Uhura nodded. "Correct. But watch what happens up here..." she gestured up and to the left, "...every time we show three or more Klingon ships near Nistras Three. Computer, resume."

The small symbols faded in and out as the overlapping three-day periods continued across the screen. Ames watched in silence for a few moments.

"Now I see it. Every time they sent a group of ships toward Nistras Three, they sent one ship toward Epsilon Triana almost immediately afterward. They were distracting us."

"Yes." Sinking into a chair, Kirk rubbed his chin. "But why? What could be on Epsilon Triana that they'd want?"

"We do not know that there is anything on Epsilon Triana," said Spock. "That is a relatively unremarkable portion of space, and it has therefore remained largely unmapped. It is possible that the Klingon interest only appears to be directed at Epsilon Triana. It is also possible that this is yet another decoy."

Ames sat down next to Kirk. "We're headed that way, but we're too far away to scan."

"When will we be close enough to scan?" asked Kirk.

"At this speed, we won't be able to use long-range sensors until day after tomorrow," replied Lenox. "The area is seeded with surveillance buoys, but they're programmed to detect ship movements. They won't help us much on this."

Spock folded his hands on the table. "I intend to review those surveillance logs in greater detail, but I suspect that Commander Lenox is correct when he states that they will tell us nothing new."

"We don't dare alter speed," said Uhura. "The Klingons would know that we've discovered something."

Spock nodded. "Agreed. I recommend that we maintain current speed. My estimate is that we can begin long-range scanning in two days at approximately 0930 hours. In the meantime, we should study whatever data is currently at our disposal."

Ames nodded at this statement, so Kirk stood and walked toward the door. "That's what we'll do, then. Keep me posted."

Already facing the computer again, Spock said, "Yes, sir."

Kirk and Ames left the conference room and headed for their respective bridges.

...

Waiting patiently until the Lexington's transporter room formed around him, Spock stepped down and halted in front of Nyota.

"Greetings, Commander," he said formally.

"Welcome to the Lexington, Commander."

"Thank you." He nodded at the transporter technician, then followed her out of the room. "Was your evening meal satisfactory?"

"Oh, I suppose. I would have rather eaten with you on the Enterprise, but Captain Ames wouldn't let me off the hook. And I can understand why he wanted me to stay here. I've hardly talked to him for two days. Would you like to see the ship?"

"Yes, very much."

"All right. Do you want the grand tour, or just the abbreviated one?"

"Perhaps we could view selected areas tonight and reserve the rest for later."

"That sounds good. I know exactly where I want to take you. Let's go for a walk in the arboretum."

"That would be agreeable."

Nyota touched him lightly on the arm as they strolled through the corridor. "I had hoped that you might be able to meet some of my friends, but tonight is poker night, and they're all occupied."

Feigning surprise, he said, "You are missing poker on my behalf? I am honored."

"It _is_ a huge sacrifice." They stepped into the lift. "You know, last night you got to plan what would happen once we were alone. I think that tonight it should be my turn."

"That would be an equitable arrangement."

"Let's see..." A sly smile played across her lips. "After our walk in the arboretum, we go up to the observation deck. Except for us, it's empty, and you kiss me. Right there."

"That is rather bold of me."

"Oh, yes. It's not a discreet little kiss, either. You pull me into your arms and kiss me like you really mean it. Pretty soon, we're both hot and bothered, so we decide that it's time to go to my quarters. Once there, I lower the lights and ask for music."

"Debussy, perhaps?"

"Debussy would be very nice. Have you decided that you like his music, after all?"

He hesitated. "I know that you like it."

She frowned at him before continuing. "I tell the computer to play Debussy's orchestral works, and I ask if you would like something light to eat."

The lift stopped, and they began walking again. "Do I agree?"

"Yes, you do, so I open a bottle of chilled Chablis and take two perfect Anjou pears from stasis. I fill two glasses with wine and we gently tap them together before drinking, then I turn away to cut the pears. You're standing very close behind me, and even though I pretend to be interested in the pears, all I can think about is you. I cut one of the slices in half and ask if you want to sample it."

"I am certain that I say yes."

"You do, so I turn around and feed it to you. You tell me that it's delicious and insist that I taste it, too, and your arm brushes my breast as you reach for the other half of the slice. The pear is very ripe, and the juice drips as you put it into my mouth. I grasp your hand and slowly lick the sticky syrup from your fingers, careful to find every sweet drop." She drew out the last three words, pitching her voice to a low, sultry level.

Her steps slowed, and Spock noticed that they had reached the arboretum. Stopping just short of the sensors that would open the door, he asked, "Am I to assume that you have two perfect Anjou pears in your quarters?"

"Mmm hmm."

"What happens after we sample them?"

"Now it's your turn to wonder. Suffice it to say that we don't finish eating the pears until later, much later, when we're thoroughly sated and lounging naked in my bed."

"Ah. I see." He swallowed. "Most interesting."

"Isn't it, though?" She held his eyes for a moment, then said, "Come on, let's see the arboretum."

When they walked through the door, Spock stopped almost immediately and raised both eyebrows. He had visited many arboretums on many ships, but never had he seen anything like this. Looking from a cluster of generously blooming Deltan eloya trees to a clump of soft, green ferns, he murmured, "Impressive."

"This arboretum is the pride of the ship. I try to come down here as often as I can. Sometimes I walk, sometimes I sit, and sometimes I just smell the flowers, but no matter how hectic my day is, I always find calm in this place. Come over here."

Grasping his arm, she towed him behind her. He heard a nearby rustling and knew they were not alone, but the foliage was thick enough that no one could see them, so he tolerated her enthusiasm. She pulled him along a winding path that was obviously designed to give the illusion of distance, and as they passed a fragrant bush, a large yellow butterfly fluttered drunkenly from the purple blossoms. Soon, she halted in front of a rose bush.

"These are my roses," she said, glowing with pride. "I couldn't believe that there wasn't a single rose in the entire arboretum, and when I pointed that out to the chief botanist, he planted one. Oh, technically it's not mine-I don't even take care of it-but I claim it."

He stepped closer and touched a delicate cream-colored petal, tracing the blush of pink that tinged the edge. "What variety is this?"

"The name of this rose is 'Peace,' and it's been around for hundreds of years. It's a tea rose."

"I know that this is a tea rose."

"Now, just how do you know about tea roses?"

"My mother grows roses. Rather, I should say that she attempts to grow roses. While she has finally found some hardy strains that can survive on Vulcan, her success is qualified. It is a constant challenge."

"I'm sure that's true."

"Years ago, she repeatedly attempted to introduce roses to her garden on Vulcan, but the fierce sun burned them. Although I was very young, I remember her determination. Each time her plants died, she planted more and increased their water. Finally, her roses lived, but the Vulcan plants died, drowned."

"Oh. That's almost sad." Nyota looked back down at the roses. "Did she ever find the balance she needed?"

"Eventually. She experimented until she found the most tolerant Terran and Vulcan plants. In addition, she planted very carefully, grouping by the amount of moisture required. Her garden grows. It does not thrive, but it survives."

"I guess there's something to be said for survival."

"Yes."

She looked at the roses again, then turned toward him. "Now, would you like to see the observation lounge?"

...

"Nyota." Spock placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "Nyota."

She rolled over without opening her eyes. "Mmmm... What is it?"

"It is 0500 hours, and I must return to the Enterprise. Do not rouse yourself. I merely wished to tell you that I was leaving."

Expecting her to acknowledge his statement and go back to sleep, he was surprised when she scooted closer and pressed her body against his.

She licked her lips and murmured, "Stay, just for a minute."

"Very well." He placed his head back on the pillow.

She ran her hand across his chest. "I was having the most incredibly erotic dream."

"Indeed?"

"I was back on the Enterprise," she said sleepily. "It was a long time ago. I was young, but I was wearing the current uniform. You know, the jacket and the longer skirt."

He nodded, and she continued.

"I was by myself in a briefing room, working. I guess that it was the same one we've been practically living in over the last two days. Anyway, I was standing near the computer with my back to the door. I heard the door open, but for some reason I didn't turn around. Someone walked up behind me and stopped. I still didn't turn around. The next thing I knew, I felt hands running slowly up the outsides of my legs. It was incredible. I just closed my eyes and enjoyed it, letting the person bend me over the computer and push my skirt up to my waist."

"And you did not know who was with you? Is that not rather promiscuous?"

"Spock, it was a dream! In my dream, it was right. That doesn't mean I'd really do something like that."

"I see. What happened next?"

"You woke me up."

"You appear rather disappointed."

"I am, but that's okay. You see, I know exactly who it was. It was you, the you of our original mission together. And I know what we were going to do, too."

"Nyota, I would never do something like that."

"I know. But I guess that our sexy conversations the past two days triggered it. And..." She snuggled closer, and he could tell that she was embarrassed.

"And?"

"And it's a whole lot like something else, a fantasy I have. With you. In a conference room. I would love to have sex on a conference room table."

He could not hide his amusement. "That would be not only highly improper, but quite uncomfortable."

She smiled and slid her hand around his back. "We wouldn't both be on the table. Just me. I could sit on the edge and you could stand between my legs. That wouldn't be uncomfortable at all."

"The table is too low. It would be awkward."

"No, it's not. That table is high. Don't you remember? We had to put it in there for Lieutenant Mtechz. He couldn't get all four legs under the regular tables."

"I do remember, but it is still not high enough." He reached around his back and removed her hand. "At any rate, it does not matter, because we are not going to have sexual relations in a conference room."

She laughed. "I know."

"It is time for me to leave." He brushed his fingers across her cheek, then climbed out of bed.

Rolling over to watch him dress, she said, "So do you think we'll be able to learn anything new today?"

"Truthfully? No. I intend to review surveillance logs until we are in range of Epsilon Triana, and once we begin scanning, I do not expect us to find anything immediately. The Klingons are too clever to give themselves away so easily."

He looked over to see that her eyelids had begun to droop. Fastening his jacket, he sat on the edge of the bed. "Go back to sleep. I will see you at 0800."

"All right." She pulled his head down so that she could kiss him. "See you then."

He quietly rose and left her quarters.

End chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 4

Kirk rose from his seat and wandered over to stand behind Spock. Intent on his research, Spock apparently didn't even realize at first that he was no longer alone. Kirk waited patiently for his friend to turn around. The bridge was unusually quiet; although he and Spock were the only members of the Enterprise crew who understood the significance of their route toward Epsilon Triana, everyone seemed to sense the undercurrent of anticipation. Finally, Spock looked up and acknowledged his presence.

Kirk moved close and murmured, "Have you found any more irregular flight patterns?"

"No," replied Spock. "Only the three. This reinforces my opinion that the Klingons' target is not Epsilon Triana, but something else in that area. They have gone to great lengths to misdirect our attention, and it is likely that they established additional safeguards in case we detected their interest. If their true destination were something between their origin and Epsilon Triana, this would effectively disguise it. Indeed, it almost worked. The deviation from a direct path was so slight that it could easily have been missed."

"I agree. I talked to Captain Ames, and he wants to see what you found. We're expected on the Lexington in fifteen minutes."

"Very well. I will prepare a report."

Nodding, Kirk returned to his chair.

...

Spock stepped down from the transporter pad and immediately fell into step with Commander Lenox and Admiral Kirk.

"Captain Ames asked me to bring you to conference room two," said Lenox. "Am I to assume that you found something new?"

"Yes," replied Spock. "In my study of the surveillance logs, I found three fascinating discrepancies. I will describe these discrepancies in detail during our briefing."

"Excellent."

They lapsed into silence as they walked, and Spock considered his discovery. Of all the Klingon forays into the neutral zone, only three had deviated from a precisely straight line. The deviation was so subtle that it had been omitted from the transcribed data upon which he, Lenox, and Nyota had based their studies; it was only when he went back to the original data that he detected the difference. Those three flights had all followed the same route, a line that would have been straight if not for a slight "bump" in the middle of each.

A throaty laugh interrupted his thoughts, and he raised his head sharply at the sound. There was no mistaking the source of such distinctive laughter. Nyota obviously awaited them just ahead. They must be nearing the conference room. Rounding the bend in the corridor, he saw that she was talking to a man wearing the blue smock of medical services.

As he watched she laughed again, nodding with animation, her eyes sparkling. Spock had always been intrigued by her laugh-full yet feminine-and before he was able to suppress the thought, he experienced a quick surge of regret that he could not join her in such an unabashed expression of enjoyment of life. The man, however, appeared to have no difficulty in expressing himself.

She looked up as they approached. "Good morning, gentlemen! Captain Ames just called to say that he's on his way. Here, let me introduce you. Admiral Kirk, Commander Spock, this is Lieutenant Ravi Srikanta. Ravi, this is Admiral James Kirk and Commander Spock."

The man in the blue smock shook Kirk's hand. "I'm so pleased to meet you. Commander Uhura has told me much about both of you."

"The pleasure's all mine, Lieutenant," said Kirk.

Nodding politely, Spock said, "Commander Uhura tells me that you are quite an accomplished poker player."

Srikanta chuckled. "She is being polite. The truth of the matter is that she takes my money every week."

Nyota laughed and patted him on the arm. "Ravi exaggerates. I don't think I'm quite ready to hit the professional circuit yet."

They all turned as a new voice joined the conversation. "I hope not! I'd hate to lose the best communications officer in the fleet to the siren call of poker."

"Captain Ames, you know I'd never abandon you." Nyota smiled one last time at Srikanta. "See you later, Lieutenant."

"Hopefully not too much later, Commander."

Srikanta winked, and Spock frowned at the sight. The man's behavior was decidedly unprofessional. Evidently the medical department on the Lexington put no more emphasis on proper military decorum than did the medical department on the Enterprise.

"You're incorrigible," said Nyota.

Already walking away, Srikanta replied, "Only with you, Commander."

Still frowning, Spock looked at Nyota for a moment, then watched the man's retreating back. The remainder of the group had already started into the conference room, however, so he quickly followed.

Ames immediately threw himself into a chair and said, "All right, Mr. Spock. Show us what you have."

"Yes, sir."

Inserting a data wafer into the computer, Spock strode to the front of the conference room and began to speak.

...

Uhura sat at the conference room table and allowed her thoughts to wander as the meeting wound to a close. She couldn't believe that Spock had discovered something in those surveillance logs, and so quickly, too! She felt a swelling in her chest as she thought about how he had managed to pry the few crucial little pieces of data out of a huge mass of seemingly meaningless statistics. What an incredible man-so intelligent, so creative, so attractive...

She watched as he walked closer to the table, his attention on the discussion between Ames and Lenox. The two men had been debating this same point for the last five minutes, and she was impressed that Spock could behave as if he were still interested. Hmmm... This table was every bit as high as the one on the Enterprise. Maybe even higher. Would he be too tall if she were sitting on the table? It was close. Maybe if he bent his knees just a little bit...

Glancing up, she saw that he had turned toward her. Oh, heavens. She tried to act as if she hadn't been gauging the height of his groin in relation to the tabletop, but realization dawned across his face almost immediately. He took a hasty step backwards to distance himself from the table, and she had to clamp her lips together to keep from laughing guiltily as the heat rose to her cheeks.

Thankfully, Kirk stood and ended the argument between Ames and Lenox, drawing everyone's attention.

"Spock, how long until we're able to scan the area where you found the alteration in the Klingons' flight paths?"

"Long-distance scanners will be in range within approximately twenty-two point six hours. I must point out, however, that the area is quite far from the point where the Lexington has customarily reversed course. If we emulate the established pattern, we will be forced to turn around after only two point one hours of scanning time."

"Which leaves us only a little more than four hours to look for whatever's out there," said Kirk. "I'm not ready yet to reveal the fact that we're suspicious. We'll just have to make those four hours count."

Ames looked back up at the viewscreen. "This gets more and more interesting."

Grinning, Kirk said, "It certainly does, and not a moment too soon as far as I'm concerned." He turned toward Spock. "After that milk run to Paklet Prime, I'm ready for a little excitement. Maybe tomorrow we'll finally start getting answers to some of our questions. Dismissed."

Uhura looked up sharply at Spock as Ames and Lenox moved toward the door. Paklet Prime? A milk run? Spock had canceled their trip to the Mozart Festival for a milk run? Busy at the computer, he was unaware of her dismay, and before she could catch his attention, Captain Ames stopped in the doorway.

"Commander Uhura? Let's go review those efficiency reports now. We'll be too busy tomorrow, and I really don't want to make them wait."

"Yes, sir."

She glanced once more in Spock's direction, but he was already in deep discussion with Kirk. She turned and followed Ames out of the room.

...

Spock speared a bite of salad and surreptitiously watched Nyota. She was uncharacteristically subdued this evening, and he could not fathom why. She had obviously taken great care over the preparation of their meal, and he was appropriately appreciative. Their day had been productive, and he knew that she was satisfied with their progress. He assumed that her sleep had been sufficiently restorative last night, so he did not think that she was tired.

Reaching for his water, he met her eyes. She smiled wanly but said nothing. Most curious. She did not appear to be angry. Indeed, she had never been shy about expressing her anger in the past, and he saw no reason why that would have changed. Was she sad? He reviewed the events of the day and could find no cause for sadness. What other emotional state could this be? Perhaps she _was_ tired.

He would not pry. If she wished to discuss the reason for her behavior, he would allow her to volunteer the information. It could be something that she would rather not discuss. It was even possible that he had misread her mood, and nothing was wrong. If she was merely tired, she might be offended by his assumption that her emotional state was less than optimum.

Looking over again to find that she was staring blankly at the center of the table, he finally could not tolerate the silence any longer. He had been subjected to various forms of interrogation in the past and had never broken under the pressure, but it occurred to him as he put his fork on his plate that he had failed this test, whatever it might be.

"Nyota."

She met his eyes, her expression clear and guileless. "Yes?"

"You appear distracted tonight. Is there a problem?"

Biting her lip, she carefully put down her fork. "Actually, I'm not sure if there's a problem or not. I've just been thinking about something Admiral Kirk said today, and I'm not sure what it means."

He waited expectantly, but she did not elaborate. "Do you wish to discuss it?" he prompted. "It is acceptable if you do not, but I know that humans often prefer to-"

"Spock." Taking a deep breath, she held up her hand to stop him. "I'd hoped to sort out my feelings before I said anything, but I guess I need some explanation from you before I can even begin to understand."

He frowned. "Exactly what did Admiral Kirk say?"

"He said that your mission to Pakled Prime was a milk run."

"Ah." He glanced away for a moment. "I see."

Although her voice remained calm, she leaned forward to emphasize her words. "If it was a milk run, why did you cancel our trip? I looked up the details of that mission this afternoon, and it was a botanical survey. Botanical! Not even an area of expertise for you. There are several people on the Enterprise who would have been every bit as qualified for something like that."

Sitting very still, he studied her expression. Was she angry? Disappointed? Merely seeking an answer? He could not tell.

"Nyota," he said hesitantly, "except for my year with Saavik, I have taken almost as much leave in the eleven months since you left the Enterprise as in my entire previous Starfleet career. Perhaps the Pakled Prime assignment was not a crucial one, but that does not change the fact that it was my duty."

"But there's always an assignment around the corner. Sometimes you have to make a choice." She reached across the table and grasped his forearm. "A relationship is like a garden. It may be healthy and beautiful, but if you don't water it, it will die. Do you realize that except for our visit with Saavik, I'm the one who has always made the effort to get us together? I didn't even figure it out until today, but think about it. I asked you to go to London with me. The trip to the beach with Saavik was my idea, and I organized it. Why, I even reserved the hotel room when we met at Starbase Fourteen."

"It was my opinion that you made these arrangements willingly."

"I did, but that's beside the point. It just seems like I'm trying harder than you."

He studied her hand for a moment, then looked up and said, "Nyota, have you considered the possibility that my requirements are different than yours? It is not unusual for Vulcan couples to be separated. Physical proximity is not the same thing as intimacy. You and I share the flame. You are with me even when we are apart."

Searching his eyes, she said, "You told me yourself that the flame wasn't enough. On Gamma Cygnus, when we made love out in that field."

"That was... a regrettably imprecise statement. I am Vulcan. We share the flame. That is sufficient."

Her eyes grew big, and although he knew too well that his words had caused pain, it could not be helped. On Gamma Cygnus, he had committed an error that he must now correct. His statement of that night had betrayed his heritage, and although he did not wish to hurt her, it was necessary that he speak the truth.

_The truth? Whose truth? The truth of your forefathers, or your own?_

The small, bothersome voice reminded him that he had spoken no untruth that night, but he silenced it mercilessly. He was Vulcan. She was in a relationship with a Vulcan. The flame was the cornerstone of a solid relationship. Anything less, and the relationship was defective. Therefore, the flame must be sufficient for them. That was the Vulcan way, and she must be made to understand the Vulcan way. Suddenly, he realized that this was the moment for more truth.

_Tell her._

Her gaze intense, she whispered, "When you said that the flame wasn't enough, you meant it. Why is it sufficient now, if it wasn't then?"

_Tell her._

She gripped his arm even more tightly. "Spock, why?"

_Tell her now._

When he did not answer, her grip on his arm became tentative, and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. She was wounded; he had wounded her. As a human, she desired certain things from him that he could not provide. As a Vulcan, he would demand certain things from her that she might find distasteful, things that could even cause her physical harm.

_She must know. If she is to be with you, she must know about pon farr._

She pulled her hand away and retreated to her side of the table. Not meeting his eyes, she said, "All right. Maybe it's not fair of me to force you to conform to my human expectations. Just remember that it's a two-way street, Spock. I've tried my best to understand the Vulcan rituals, and in doing so found real joy. If you try to understand the nuances of a human relationship, maybe you can learn to appreciate what I need. This is very important to me."

He gazed at her. Had he neglected her needs? He did not think that he had, but he was unsure. Had he? If so, how could he selfishly tell her now of more needs on his part?

"I understand. I did not realize that my efforts were inadequate. I will strive to improve."

She sighed. "That's not what I said, Spock. Your efforts were never 'inadequate.' My point is that we have a wonderful relationship, but we can't take it for granted if we want it to thrive. We have to nurture it, and part of nurturing it is making the extra effort to be together."

He nodded and picked up his fork again. The moment for truth had passed.

End chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 5

Deftly flipping a series of switches, Uhura kicked off the morning diagnostics and reached for her coffee. She wasn't due on the Enterprise for another fifteen minutes-just enough time to take care of a few routine chores. She sat back in her chair and peered over the top of her cup as the night's transmissions scrolled across her screen.

The bridge was almost empty. It was too early for the majority of the alpha shift, and when she had left Ames and Lenox in the mess hall, they had said that they were going straight over to the Enterprise after breakfast. This stillness was fine with her, however. She'd always enjoyed this quiet time of day, and heaven only knew that her normal routine had been disrupted recently.

She thought back over her conversation with Spock last night. Why in the universe did he think he needed to cloak himself in Vulcan ritual all of a sudden? He was as bad as a turtle in a shell sometimes. He might stick his neck out, but too much threat to his equilibrium and he'd pull his head back and hide. Why was he so afraid to admit that he needed more than the flame? Even though in the end their evening had been nice, he had never really come back out of that shell. Maybe tonight she would put on some soft music, lower the lights, wear something revealing...

Frowning, she lowered her coffee.

"Computer. Pause display. Reverse three seconds and halt."

She put down the cup and looked closer, then ran her hands across the board.

"Computer. Isolate low-frequency band two. Enhance."

She held her breath as she studied the readout. There it was. Juggling several different decryption routines simultaneously, her eyes grew big as the results appeared on the display. Finally, she inserted a data wafer, toggled another switch, and ejected the wafer. Picking up the wafer and her padd, she stood.

She had to find Captain Ames.

...

"Admiral! Mr. Spock! Wait!"

Kirk turned around to see Uhura jogging down the corridor in his direction, a padd in her hand. Her expression was serious, and he knew immediately that something was wrong.

Watching as she stopped in front of him, he said, "What is it?"

"I don't think that we should discuss it here."

He exchanged a quick glance with Spock. "Ames and Lenox are both waiting in the conference room. Let's go there, and you can explain it to all of us."

"No, sir." She shook her head firmly. "Not the conference room. As a matter of fact, I tried to catch Captain Ames before he left the Lexington, but now that he's in the conference room, I don't think we should even go get him. Is there someplace else we can talk?"

Spock gestured toward the end of the corridor. "Nothing is scheduled for the science lab's isolation room this morning."

Kirk nodded. "All right. Lead the way."

They walked in silence until the door closed behind them, then Kirk faced Uhura and said, "Report."

She turned on her padd. "This morning, I was running routine diagnostics when I found what looked like interstellar noise. It was too brief, though, so I figured that it had to be a message."

Spock moved closer. "That is a low-frequency band."

"Yes. That's why it first caught my attention. Transmitting on a frequency this low is so impractical that no one does it anymore. It's slow as molasses, and the possibility of noise corrupting the message makes it too complicated to be worth the trouble. Because no one uses this frequency, no one monitors it either. It was just luck that I noticed it."

Studying the readout, Spock murmured, "It was not luck, Commander, but your exceptional abilities that brought this to our attention." She glanced up, obviously pleased, but he continued. "Have you deciphered the message?"

"Yes. It was actually easy, because the Klingons don't know that we broke this code."

Scowling, Kirk said, "The Klingons?"

She nodded. "And you won't believe what the message says."

"Let's have it."

"'Enterprise and Lexington aware of importance of Epsilon Triana and en route to investigate.'"

Kirk blinked twice, then looked over at Spock to see that his friend's expression was also one of disbelief. Running his hand across his mouth, Kirk muttered, "They know what we're doing. How could that be?"

"The answer is obvious," said Spock. "We have a 'leak.'"

"Yes, I know. But how?"

"Officially, there are only five people who have access to this information," Spock said. "The three of us, Lenox, and Ames. Is it possible that Lenox or Ames-"

Uhura shook her head emphatically. "I've served with Commander Lenox and Captain Ames for nearly a year now, and I trust them completely. I refuse to believe that either of them is responsible for this."

"Very well," said Spock. "We will eliminate that as a potential theory. Another possibility is that the conference room is not secure."

Kirk regarded Spock for a moment. Speaking slowly, he said, "We also have to consider that there might be a listening device in someone's quarters. Or maybe even a video recorder."

Their eyes widening, Spock and Uhura looked quickly at each other. If it weren't for the seriousness of the situation, Kirk might have been amused at their identical expressions of horror. And the thought _was _appalling-someone eavesdropping on your most private moments.

Trying his best to be tactful, Kirk said, "I hate to ask this, but, er, have the two of you discussed the mission in your quarters?"

Uhura shook her head. "I don't think so. I can't-"

His expression unreadable, Spock interrupted. "Yes. We have."

"We have? When?"

Spock glanced briefly at Kirk before facing her again. Obviously uncomfortable, he said, "Yesterday morning, very early. You were not entirely awake so evidently do not remember, but you asked me what the day might hold. I replied that I planned to review surveillance logs until we were in range of Epsilon Triana, at which time we would begin scanning."

She covered her eyes. "Oh my God."

"Indeed."

Kirk began to pace. "Let's not jump to any conclusions. Someone could be tapping into the computer, or maybe listening in on me when I record my logs. It could be someone currently on board, or someone no longer on board, or any combination of the above. There are any number of possibilities. Do you know where it originated?"

Uhura shook her head. "I can only tell you where it did not originate. It did not originate here, and it did not originate on the Lexington."

"So someone sent that information to someone else, who then passed it on."

"That's what it looks like."

They were all quiet for several moments as Kirk continued to pace. Finally, he stopped. "Let's use this to our advantage."

"How?" Uhura asked.

"We'll feed misinformation to the Klingons."

Smiling for the first time, she said, "Yes! That's an excellent idea. We can pretend that we don't know, and in the meantime we'll be searching for the leak."

Kirk chuckled, and both Spock and Uhura turned toward him. "I have to point out," he said apologetically, "that if we really want to avoid arousing suspicion, you two are going to have to continue to, uh, spend time in each other's quarters."

Uhura met Spock's eyes and grimaced, but neither of them commented.

Kirk continued. "For now, we'll go ahead and meet with Ames and Lenox. We'll make it brief-basically no change, all systems go. I'll walk them to the transporter room and explain at that time. Spock, clear the schedule for this room, and we'll meet back here at 0900 hours."

Spock and Uhura nodded, so the three of them walked out the door and headed toward the conference room.

...

Walking through the corridor, Uhura leaned close to Spock and whispered, "I don't like this, Spock. It's going to be awful."

"I am not pleased either, but the charade is necessary. If the surveillance device truly is in your quarters, we must convince our eavesdropper that we looked no further than Epsilon Triana and that our scans were fruitless. Such a statement would not be far from the truth."

"I don't have any problem with that part of it, but it's going to be hard to sound convincing when I talk about my transfer to the Enterprise. I mean, something like that is going to come entirely out of the blue! How can I make it sound believable without giving away that I'm just coming over to monitor communications?"

"Perhaps I could comment on the fact that several people have been less than satisfied with your replacement."

She grinned. "I can't believe that you're coaching me on how to lie convincingly."

"It is not a lie."

"What? I thought that Feinstein was doing all right."

"His work is adequate. His critics cannot help but compare him to you, however, and he fares poorly in such a contest."

"That's the second sweet thing you've said about my work today. Thank you."

"Thanks are not necessary. You know that I have always greatly respected your abilities. Admiral Kirk does, as well. That is why he suggested that you remain with the Enterprise."

"I still appreciate it." She grew quiet as they turned a corner, but no one was there. "It's strange to think that by this time tomorrow I'll be back on the Enterprise and settling into my new quarters. I'm actually excited about the idea, even though it's only temporary."

"Your friends will be quite excited as well, and disappointed when they eventually learn the truth."

"Yes, I know. I'm not too crazy about deceiving them, but I'm sure they'll understand."

"They will. By the way, I was impressed with Captain Ames' ingenuity earlier. I must confess that I allowed his 'colorful' personality to bias my perception of him, but his idea was excellent."

"Wasn't it, though? When the Lexington leaves tomorrow, it'll look just like the Enterprise is taking over a routine patrol."

"You will face yet another challenge when we attempt to maintain contact without arousing suspicion."

"I have a few ideas about how to do that." Her step slowed as they approached her quarters. "Well, here we are.

"Yes. Here we are."

Glancing up at him once more, she took a deep breath and walked through the door. Her quarters had always seemed safe and cozy, a refuge from the stress and strains of everyday life, but now they just seemed menacing. Was someone listening? Watching? She had to make a conscious effort not to look in every corner for the hateful device that had violated her sanctuary.

Trying to keep her voice casual, she said, "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes. Thank you."

She had to fight the sudden nervous impulse to laugh at the stiffness in Spock's voice. She didn't dare look at him-she just knew that he was all but standing at attention. Poor Spock. She might be upset by the idea that someone could have been watching them, but that was probably nothing compared to his reaction. She picked up the two cups of tea and turned toward him.

"Let's sit down."

As they settled themselves on the cushions, she smiled and touched him lightly on the arm. If they had to put on an act, they might as well get on with it. Without wasting another moment, she launched into a description of her delight at her new assignment.

...

Reminding himself that the body was only the body, Spock removed his jacket and arranged it neatly on the back of a chair. If someone was observing them, they had seen much more than this previously. He pulled his shirt off over his head and folded it, then sat on the edge of the bed and removed his boots.

When he stood and reached for the front of his pants, he looked over and met Nyota's eyes. Humiliation had caused her to press her lips into a tense line, but she did not hesitate. Unfastening her bra, she threw it onto a chair and bent to push down her underpants, and suddenly he understood that the knot in his stomach was caused by anger. He watched her slip under the covers and pull them over her shoulders, and he had to swallow past the frightening urge to find this person and forcefully stop their voyeuristic intrusion, not for the sake of the mission but to win back her easy confidence, and to erase the shame that tightened her smooth features.

Quickly removing the rest of his clothing, he joined her in the bed. She rolled over and pressed her hands against his face. Her touch felt like ice.

Smiling forcibly, she said, "I'm really tired tonight. I think I'd like to just go on to sleep. After all, we'll have plenty of time together once I'm on the Enterprise."

"That is satisfactory. Good night, Nyota."

"Good night."

She kissed him quickly, then turned over and tugged on the covers until they almost covered her head. He watched her for a long moment, then rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. It was merely a continuation of their act, however, for he knew that he would not sleep much tonight.

End chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 6

Her hands on her hips, Uhura looked around her quarters and wondered what she should do next. It seemed odd to pack up everything she owned for such a short stay, but of course she had to make this convincing in case someone was watching. Despite her uneasiness at that thought, however, she knew that the butterflies in her stomach were more due to the excitement of being with her old friends again. And because the "transfer" was only temporary, she wouldn't have to be sad about leaving her new friends.

A signal from the door announced that she had a visitor.

"Come."

The door slid open, and Ravi Srikanta entered the room. "Nyota! Tell me it is not true! You are leaving us?"

Remembering to look properly dismayed, she said, "Oh Ravi, yes, it's true. They need me back on the Enterprise."

"And you were going to leave without even telling me?"

"I would have said goodbye! Really! You know I wouldn't leave without seeing all my good friends."

He walked into the room and grasped her hands, and suddenly she really did feel sad. He truly thought she was leaving! What a dear man. He might laugh and joke, but underneath the non-stop playfulness and flirtation lay real affection. She swallowed past a tightness in her throat as she remembered all their good times.

The merriment in his voice false, he said, "Well, when you are back on the Enterprise taking their money at the card table, just remember what it was like when you were here to take our money."

"You know I won't forget you, Ravi. We'll stay in touch."

"Of course we will." He squeezed her hands once more, then released them. "And whenever the Enterprise is near the Lexington, I expect you to come visit us."

"Definitely. Tell Anton and Joshua to reserve a seat for me-" She glanced at Ravi when the door chimed again. "Speaking of Anton and Joshua. Come."

Expecting to see her poker buddies, she was surprised when the door opened to reveal Spock.

"Commander Spock!" She motioned him into the room. "Come in!"

"Greetings, Commander." His manner formal as the door slid shut behind him, he looked from her to Ravi. "I thought that you might require some assistance, but I see that you are not alone. Perhaps this is not a good time."

She raised her hand to stop him from leaving, but lowered it when he didn't move. Stifling a grin, she saw that he obviously had no intention of leaving. And evidently neither did Ravi. The two men regarded each other-one slender and the other stocky, one tall and the other not tall, one somber and the other ebullient-and she had to turn away to hide her amusement. Who would back down first? Spock was wearing his most severe Vulcan face, and if she had to pick the victor, she wouldn't bet on Ravi.

Sure enough, Ravi finally caved in. "I must go now, Nyota. Please contact me when you are settled on the Enterprise."

"I will."

She drew him into a friendly hug, but before she knew it, he had thrown his arms around her and pulled her tight. "Goodbye, beautiful one," he murmured into her ear. "I will miss you terribly."

Extricating herself, she said, "Goodbye, Ravi. I'll be in touch."

She watched him walk out the door, then turned to Spock and laughed. "You can lower your eyebrow now. He was just trying to get a reaction out of me. But it looks like maybe he got a reaction out of you, instead."

All expression vanishing from his face, he said, "He did not."

Expecting a good-natured riposte at the very least, she paused for a moment, then tried again. "Well, then how about if I try to get a reaction out of you? One that I promise you'll like."

He moved toward her desk and picked up several framed holos. "Where do you wish to pack these?"

She frowned, then pointed toward the empty crate on her bed. "I thought I'd put them with my books."

He stacked them in the crate and went back for more. She watched him for a moment, then shook her head and joined him. Soon, they were working side-by-side to move her to the Enterprise.

...

His elbows on the table, Kirk leaned forward and rested his chin on his knuckles. He was confused by Spock's last move. After many, many years of playing chess with Spock, he thought that he could anticipate just about anything Spock might do, but this stumped him. It almost looked careless. Was Spock up to something? Trying to lure him into complacency or throw him off? Or was it possible that Spock really had just slipped up? Peering across the table, he saw that his friend was watching the activity on the other side of the rec room, and he decided that his last theory was probably the correct one.

"It's just like old times in here, isn't it?" he said casually.

Spock turned back quickly but didn't comment, so Kirk continued.

"That is, it's just like old times except that winning this game is going to be as easy as taking candy from a baby."

Spock studied the chess board for a moment before finally sighing softly and tipping over his king.

Kirk grinned. "Distracted?"

A hint of embarrassment on his features, Spock nodded. "Somewhat."

"Well, I don't blame you. It's really something to have her back on board, singing in the rec lounge as if she never left. Everyone is thrilled to have her back. This room hasn't been so lively in ages." Kirk watched as she waved at someone in the doorway. Leaning close to Spock, he said, "Do you remember how she used to talk you into playing your harp while she sang? You two always flirted outrageously."

"We did not 'flirt outrageously.' She and I merely shared a mutual appreciation of music."

"You shared a mutual appreciation of something, but I'm not sure it was just music."

Spock opened his mouth to object again, but he stopped when he saw the teasing expression on Kirk's face. Obviously deciding to change tactics, he looked around to ensure that no one was close to them and murmured, "Have you recorded your logs for the day yet?"

"Yes. Hopefully I was able to convey that we found nothing worthy of our attention on Epsilon Triana, and that we're going to concentrate our efforts on Nistras Three. How about you? Learn anything this afternoon?"

"No. The process is very slow. Not only were my scans less specific than I wished, but the small computer in the science lab is inadequate to the task of analyzing the data. Until I am able to eliminate the possibility that someone has infiltrated the main computer, however, I must rely on it."

"Damn. I wish that we could unhook one of the other computers so that you'd have two standalone processors."

"That would be helpful, but it is not worth the risk of arousing suspicion. We are fortunate that Lieutenant Redfern had already isolated the computer in the science lab. She was not pleased when I terminated her experiment and usurped the computer. I saved her data, so she will experience no loss when she is able to resume."

"What about Uhura? I haven't talked to her since this morning. Has she made any progress on her investigation?"

"Very little. Unfortunately, that is also a slow process. She found it difficult to search for a surveillance device without revealing that she was, in fact, searching for a surveillance device. It is ironic that the only places in which we may discuss the mission are those areas of the ship never intended for such discussions, such as this room. And of course, even that is based on the assumption that the spy would have seen no benefit in 'bugging' unsecured areas."

Kirk nodded. "Well, once Uhura is through checking out the more obvious areas like the conference rooms and our quarters, we can turn her loose on the mess halls and the rec rooms. For now, I don't see that we have any choice but to assume that certain areas are safe. We have to talk somewhere."

"Agreed. At any rate, Commander Uhura is now relatively certain that my quarters are secure. We must concoct a reason for her to enter your quarters tomorrow."

"Oh, speaking of securing our quarters... I put a monitor in her new quarters today. It's programmed to ignore both of you-once it identifies you, it will go back to sleep. If an unauthorized person is there, it will record the intrusion. Unfortunately, we won't be notified immediately since I couldn't tie it in to the computer, but this ought to be good enough."

"It is sufficient. Commander Uhura will be pleased when she learns of your precautions." Reaching for his king, Spock asked, "Would you care to play again? I assure you, this time I will provide you with more of a challenge."

Kirk chuckled. "Sure."

They turned their attention back to the chess board.

...

Tapping her foot impatiently, Uhura waited for the lift to open onto the bridge. She was back! How many times had she stepped onto the bridge of the Lexington, only to feel slightly out of place? Too many to count, that was certain. This, though-this felt right, like coming home. She couldn't wait to see the look on their faces when the door opened and she stepped out.

The lift slid to a halt. Here she was. Smiling broadly, she walked onto the bridge, and the first thing she noticed was that a stranger sat at Spock's station. And in the center chair was Lieutenant, uh, Lieutenant McSomething-or-other. No Scotty, no Sulu. Her smile faded. Where was everyone? It wasn't even particularly early. She'd arranged with Kirk to scan his quarters this morning, so she had actually missed the beginning of her shift.

She turned toward her station and saw with relief that at least one person she knew was here. Sitting at the communications board was Lieutenant Feinstein, her right-hand man, the man she had recommended to take over the communications department. He was just waiting for her to...

Tell him that she was here to replace him. Damn.

To the best of his knowledge, she had returned to the ship for the sole purpose of stealing his job away. Her step faltered, but he had already noticed her, so she quickly stepped forward and tried to make the best of the situation.

"Hello, Saul! How have you been doing?

"Oh, I suppose I've been doing all right." he said coolly. "I already ran the morning diagnostics and reviewed the shift log from last night."

"Okay. Thanks. Well, I guess you're dismissed."

"Yes, ma'am."

She watched him leave the bridge. When this was all over, he'd be the first person to hear her explanation.

Turning to her station, she kicked off several routines that would search the past week's transmissions for anything unusual. She had loaded them late last night with Spock's help. If someone had happened to notice her activity yesterday, it would appear that she had simply fine-tuned the diagnostics. Figuring out how to discreetly record the results of the search, however, had been trickier. She and Spock had puzzled for a long time over how to do that without giving away their intent.

Finally, they had settled on programming their new routine to write an everyday status report, but one with certain key values embedded in the long string of statistics. If someone were to read that report who really understood it, they would recognize that much of what it contained was gibberish. She was betting, though, that their spy or spies didn't have an eye for that kind of detail. She hoped not, anyway.

As she leaned back in her chair and waited for the programs to end, she thought about their evening. The two of them had worked well together, overcoming one challenge after another, putting their heads together until they had a workable solution. They had even come up with a way to piggyback a search for computer infiltration on the routine nightly backups. She had enjoyed every minute of it.

When they had finished, however, an awkward silence had stretched between them until she finally said that she would prefer just to sleep alone. She had blamed it on the small size of her bed, but they both knew that wasn't the reason. Even though there was no possibility of surveillance in these quarters, her skin still crawled with the thought that someone might have watched them before. And even though such a notion was silly, he hadn't protested her illogic and actually seemed to show relief when he left.

She shuddered. _Had_ someone been watching them? How much time would have to pass before she could abandon her inhibitions without feeling like someone was listening to her every moan, studying every contortion of her face, observing the many ways her body opened itself to his? It was silly since she knew that her quarters were secure, but she had felt exposed and vulnerable last night. She had even undressed in the fresher so that she could hide herself away from the mere idea of prying eyes.

Her bed had been lonely, though. Maybe tonight she would talk him into staying with her-no sex, just cuddling. She would even turn up the heat for him and try her best to tolerate it. He'd been unusually reserved since their discussion of the flame the other night, and it was starting to bother her. Maybe tonight, if they could just have a relaxed, normal evening together, it would draw him out of this mood.

The comm board beeped to signal the end of diagnostics. Leaning forward to see what she had, she shook her head. Nothing.

She'd try again later.

...

Spock moved a chair to the small computer in the science lab and began downloading the results of last night's backups. The amount of data was considerable, so the routine he had created last night to scan for "footprints" would not run quickly on this slow processor. He prepared himself for what was certain to be a tedious task.

"Computer, run program Spock 421. Search for unauthorized computer usage. Send results to visual output."

He bent over the screen and waited, but as he had expected, his search found no unauthorized use. Therefore, the person who had infiltrated the computer was either an authorized user or an unauthorized user who had learned how to bypass the safeguards. Of course, another possibility was that the computer had not been infiltrated at all, but he found that highly unlikely.

"Computer, run program Spock 421. Compile a log of computer usage sorted by user. Send results to data file and to visual output."

After a moment, a stream of statistics scrolled across the display, and he watched patiently until the data came to a halt. While he had not truly expected to find anything so quickly, he could not help but wonder if Nyota was having better results with her own search through last night's transmissions. She had been extremely hopeful when they parted company last night. Perhaps she would join him soon and describe her morning.

"Computer, run program Spock 421. Compile a log of computer usage weighted by relevance to current mission. Send results to data file and to visual output."

This search took longer than the other two, and while he waited, he allowed his mind to wander. He had looked for Nyota at breakfast this morning, but when Mr. Sulu inquired about her absence, Mr. Scott had stated that she and Admiral Kirk were dining together in Kirk's quarters as part of an informal briefing on the current mission. Spock had simply nodded as if accepting such news at face value, but he knew very well that her true objective was to scan the admiral's quarters for surveillance devices.

He returned his attention to the computer as the data flashed on the screen. He frowned slightly. Nothing.

"Computer, cross-reference user list from search number two to most recently compiled list."

Knowing that this operation would be even lengthier than the previous, he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms across his chest. Last night when he and Nyota had completed their work, she had asked him to leave. Those were not her exact words, but he had understood her intent. And he had not argued, despite the illogic of her thinking; on the contrary, he had actually seized the opportunity to return to his own quarters. It was just as well that he had. She was very much in need of rest, and it gave him a welcome opportunity to meditate.

_And it allowed you to escape before you and she were left with nothing but unspoken questions hanging between you._

He was saved from having to examine that last thought too closely by the appearance of his results on the screen. An instant later, he heard the door open behind him.

"Computer. Pause display."

Turning quickly, he suppressed an unexpected flicker of disappointment when he realized that his visitor was not Nyota. He composed his features and nodded once.

"Greetings, Admiral."

"Morning, Spock. Any luck?"

He raised an eyebrow but did not comment on the illogic of luck. "Not yet, Admiral, but my analysis is still in progress."

"Don't let me stop you."

Spock turned back to the computer, but before he could speak, the door opened again. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Nyota had joined them. She smiled tightly and met his eyes, then sat down on the other side of the table.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "My scan of last week's transmissions didn't turn up anything interesting. We really need to catch it when it happens."

Kirk nodded. "At least we know that my quarters aren't bugged."

"What about you?" She looked at Spock. "Have you found anything?"

"No, but as I informed Admiral Kirk, my searches are not yet complete." Turning back to the computer, he said, "Computer. Resume display."

Once again, the data flashed on his screen. This time, however, he noticed that there did appear to be an unexpected interest in the current mission. All queries had gone through official channels, yet...

"Computer. Pause display." He raised an eyebrow as he scanned the data. "Fascinating."

Kirk pulled a chair close and sat down. "Did you find something?"

"Possibly." Spock studied the screen. "Computer. Identify user zebra-charlie-six-six-four-eight-one."

"Working. User ZC66481 is Ensign Aristotle Gato. Currently assigned to recycling support services. Length of service is-"

"Computer. Show excerpt of computer usage log. Extract records for user ZC66481. Display timestamp."

Nyota dragged her chair to the other side of the table. "What is it, Spock?"

"An ensign in recycling support services has very little use for information on the current mission, yet Ensign Gato began repeatedly asking for details on stardate 3954.2. Each request taken alone is innocuous, but the cumulative effect of so many requests raises my suspicions. In addition, the last such request took place at 2242 hours on stardate 3969.6."

Kirk met Spock's eyes. "Four days ago."

"Just barely twenty-four hours before the message I intercepted," added Nyota.

"Could it be that finding our culprit was really so easy?"

"Unknown," replied Spock. "It is possible that we were supposed to find this trail."

Nyota tapped her fingernails on the table. "Do you think it's a cover for something else?"

"Also unknown."

Kirk stood. "I need to get to the bridge. Uhura, when can you run your scans again?"

Grinning, she said, "I introduced a bug into the communications protocol. It's a really nasty one. My backup will call me any minute to come up and help figure it out, and I should be able to run all the diagnostics I want without it seeming odd."

Kirk laughed, and Spock nodded his appreciation of her ingenious tactic.

"Good job, Commander." Kirk headed for the door. "You two keep working, and we'll meet back here at 1100 hours if possible for a status check."

"Aye, sir."

Spock had already turned back to the computer before Kirk was out the door.

End chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 7

2100 hours. It had taken all day, but evidently Spock and Uhura had finally found something. Kirk pushed his nightly paperwork to the side when he received the call from Uhura, and hurried to the science lab.

The door whisked open, and they both looked up from the computer.

"What did you find?" asked Kirk.

Spock tilted the computer so that Kirk could see over his shoulder. "The log entries we found this morning under Ensign Gato's user identification were not originally created by Ensign Gato. Someone else made those requests and rather clumsily used Gato's identification to cover his trail. We are not dealing with a computer expert, and it appears likely that we are not dealing with more than one person."

Kirk sat down at the table. "But I take it you don't know who did this?"

"Correct. While the changes to the computer log were unwieldy, they were nevertheless effective."

Kirk pursed his lips in frustration, but Uhura touched him lightly on the arm and murmured, "There's more, Admiral."

Spock nodded. "Indeed there is. We have located the 'leak.'"

"Excellent! Where is it?"

"As we suspected, someone tapped into the computer and is monitoring our usage. Once we ascertained that the log entries were altered, it was not difficult to follow the path our suspect took. We are fortunate that this person's computer skills are unsophisticated. I can easily build a 'wall' around the corrupted routines and limit what we allow him to observe."

Kirk leaned back in his chair. "If someone is looking at everything we do on the computer, can't you trace it back to a location on the ship?"

Shaking her head, Uhura said, "Our person isn't very good at this, but he does know enough to avoid sending the information directly to another computer. It's all stored in central memory, and the audit trail has been wiped."

Everyone was silent as Kirk digested this information. Finally, he turned toward Uhura. "Commander, what happened with your communications 'bug'?"

Smiling ruefully, she said, "I had to fix it before communications were disabled for real. I never did pick up any unauthorized transmissions or coded messages."

"Do you anticipate that it will cause difficulty again tomorrow?" Spock asked.

She laughed. "Oh, you never know. Maybe I didn't fix what I thought I fixed. Those communication relays are tricky."

Kirk glanced over at Spock. "Spock, could we invent something and make sure our spy sees it?"

"Yes. Once I construct a barrier, we will be able to channel selected data. In order to avoid arousing suspicion, we must allow our infiltrator continued access to broad-based routines such as normal communications-hence the need for Commander Uhura's 'bug'-but we can prevent his monitoring other routines, such as scanning, and ensure that he sees only what we wish for him to see."

"Good. Let's come up with something so juicy he'll have to send it immediately, and show it to him in the morning when Uhura is on the bridge to monitor communications."

"Might I suggest that our fabrication be a complicated one?" asked Spock. "That will allow Commander Uhura additional time to attempt a fix on the source of the transmission."

Uhura nodded. "Good idea, but even if it's a long message this might still take several tries. I'll have to figure out the protocol before I can even begin to locate the transmitter. You know, I could really use Scotty's help on this."

"I agree. We'll bring him up to speed in the morning." Kirk looked across the table. "In the meantime, let's call it a night. I want everyone fresh tomorrow."

...

Holding her wine glass loosely in her lap, Uhura closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the sofa. She breathed slowly as the soothing melody of "Clair de lune" rolled around the room, and she willed her taut nerves to relax.

After a moment, she opened her eyes to see Spock watching her.

"Are you unwell?"

She smiled gently. "I'm just tired. I haven't slept much the past few nights, and I was so invigorated all day that I didn't stop long enough for it to catch up with me." She scooted over until her thigh brushed against his. "Now that I'm sitting quietly, it hit me. That's all."

"Perhaps I should leave so that you-"

"No." She put her hand on his knee to stop him. "Please stay. I would really like to feel you next to me in bed."

"If you are tired, you should sleep. You pointed out last night that your bed was small, and that has not changed. My presence will only disrupt you, unless, of course, you desire more than sleep."

"No, all I want to do is sleep." Sighing, she said, "Last night I just felt uncomfortable being with you. Actually, even though I know it's illogical, I still feel like someone's watching us. It's creepy. And now that I've got the idea in my head, I can't get rid of it. I don't know. Maybe you _should_ go."

"No one is watching us. No one was watching us last night. It is safe to assume that no one was watching us on the Lexington, either, since we have found the source of the leak."

"So now you want to stay?"

"No. I am merely explaining why your feeling of 'being watched' is illogical."

She tried to keep exasperation from her tone, but she knew she wasn't entirely successful. "I know it's illogical. That's what I said."

"And I agreed with you. It is obvious that you are overtired. I will leave."

"Spock!" Rubbing her face, she lowered her voice. "I really want you to stay."

He spread his hands. "Why? If my presence makes you uncomfortable-"

"It's not you. It was just the idea of someone watching us."

"No one is watching us."

"I know that!"

"Then obviously I do not understand. Why are you uncomfortable?"

"I just am."

"'I just am' is not a good reason. Logic dictates-"

Throwing her hands into the air, she exclaimed, "Maybe I just want to be comforted! Reassured that we're really alone and always were! Hell, if you sweet-talked me, maybe I _would_ want to have sex."

"We _are_ truly alone, and even though I cannot state so definitively that we always were, the point is now moot. You know that as well as I do." He shook his head. "And did you or did you not say that you only desired sleep?"

Setting her glass down hard on the table, she shoved her hair away from her face. "Forget it! Just forget it! If I have to explain it to you, then forget it!"

His voice finally reflecting his own frustration, he said, "Explain what, Nyota?"

"Nothing!" She stood. "Just go back to your own quarters. I'll see you in the morning."

Coming to his feet, he raised both eyebrows. "That is what I proposed in the first place."

"Then do it!"

They glared at each other for a moment before he nodded tersely. "Very well."

"Fine."

He walked toward the door. At the last moment, he turned, and for an instant she thought that maybe he would apologize for being so unmindful of her needs, he would come back and draw her into his arms...

"Tomorrow morning when you run your scans," he said, "perhaps they would be more fruitful if you adjusted the Broussard transceiver to register omega-"

Intending to tidy the sofa, she grabbed a pillow and slung it back down against the arm. "I already thought of that! Good night!"

He drew himself up. "Good night." Holding her gaze for another moment, he finally walked out the door.

She watched as the door swished shut, and then she picked up the sofa pillow again and tried to make it stay where she wanted. Damn thing! Why did it keep falling over? She punched it back into place. And why did she have to spell it out when all she wanted was a little tenderness and understanding?

Finally getting the pillow to stay propped up against the arm of the sofa, she stomped back to her bedroom.

...

Stepping into his quarters, Spock took a deep breath and tried to find his control. What had just happened? He had been willing to stay, but Nyota had contradicted herself so many times that he could not comprehend exactly what she wanted from him. Indeed, she acted as if he should have known her wishes without her having to state them, and when he attempted to explain that such an attitude was illogical, she became offended.

Clearly, he was not the only person in the relationship who experienced difficulty with open communication.

Opening the front of his jacket, he walked back to the bedroom in search of his meditation robe.

...

"Admiral, are ye saying that we have a traitor? Right here, on board the Enterprise?" An expression of shock on his face, Scotty drew back and looked around the table as if the traitor were sitting there with them.

"That's correct, Mr. Scott," said Kirk. "We need your help locating him. Mr. Spock and Commander Uhura determined yesterday that he's tapping the computer, so our plan is to feed misinformation in hope that he'll try to transmit."

Scotty nodded slowly. "Aye, that should do it. What can I do to help?"

Uhura spoke up. "I'll be on the bridge when Mr. Spock activates the false data. Hopefully I'll be able to detect the transmission, and I want you to help me get a fix on it."

Gazing across the table at Scotty, she studiously avoided the dark, calm eyes of the person next to him. Her spat with Spock seemed silly after a good night's sleep, but she still thought that he had been insensitive. What had gotten into him recently, anyway?

"I'll do what I can, lass. What sort of false data did ye have in mind?"

Spock clasped his hands and rested them on the table. "Last night, I implemented the changes that will allow us to limit computer access. In addition, I created graphics that show the Potemkin and the Lexington en route to Nistras Three. Our 'scans' will capture an unusual energy signature from the Potemkin, one that cannot easily be described."

Although his voice was as even as always, had he paused overlong after the words 'last night'? Unable to resist, she finally looked over at him. His eyes, full of questing intelligence as always, were trained on her almost as if he was trying to read her thoughts, and she felt her chest tighten at the sight of his uncertainty. Suddenly ashamed of her ill temper last night, she dropped her gaze and pretended to study the padd in front of her.

"Very good. Something like that will get their attention." Kirk rubbed his chin and glanced over at Uhura. "Commander, how much time do you need to prepare?"

"Give me about five minutes to check in with Captain Ames and another ten on the bridge with Scotty, and we should be ready."

"Done." Looking at Spock, Kirk asked, "Can you do your part from the bridge?"

"Affirmative."

"Excellent." Kirk stood. "While the three of you prepare, I'll alert security and give the other bridge officers a quick need-to-know briefing. Let's get this show on the road."

...

Uhura gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from Yeoman Smithers and turned back to her board. What a disappointment! After all the high drama earlier-Spock's casual nod to signal that his 'scans' had run, her own excited monitoring of outbound communications, Scotty's attentive wait-nothing had happened. Absolutely nothing. Spock had warned them that they shouldn't expect immediate results, but nine hours? She had been forced to fix her 'bug' four hours ago and now had to rely on sheer brainpower alone.

She took a large mouthful of coffee and winced. Ouch. Too hot. Glancing up, she caught Sulu's sympathetic smile and shook her head ruefully. Although he didn't know all the details of their mission, he knew enough to understand that this had been a very long day for her.

She mirrored his smile before turning back to her board. Ensuring that the automatic controls were set to signal detection of any outbound message, she started another series of manual scans.

...

Alone in the science lab, Spock ran a new set of routines against the statistics he had culled last night. He had estimated that the spy would transmit within five hours of his planting the data, but much more time had elapsed and there was still no sign of activity. Therefore, it was logical to wonder if perhaps the spy had tapped into the computer from an access point other than the one he and Nyota had identified last night. The odds were approximately seven hundred and fourteen to one against such an occurrence, but he wished to narrow those odds even further.

As he waited for the results of his current test, he thought back to the morning's meeting. Nyota had sat directly across from him, stiff and silent-in short, she had not been her usual amiable self. Was she still angry? Why had she become angry in the first place? She had been vague, he had wanted her to specify...

Tightening his lips, he looked down at his hands and forced himself to acknowledge the fact that he saw today what he had not seen last night; specifically, he had been obtuse and uncooperative. He had known perfectly well that she desired solace, but he had been unwilling to provide it. He had become exasperated with her inability to see the logic of the situation. Even now, he experienced a small surge of annoyance as he remembered their discussion.

But... he was not entirely certain at whom that annoyance was directed. A guilty uneasiness tinged his thoughts as he reviewed his recent actions. Four nights ago, she had demanded to know how he could insist that the flame was sufficient. In response, he had spoken of the Vulcan way, but what he had not told her paled in comparison with what he had. Circumstances had prevented any sort of serious conversation the night after that, but two nights ago, he could not deny that he had leapt at the opportunity to leave before she could bring up any sort of awkward topic again.

He took a deep breath as he remembered the expression on her face when she had detected that he was not being entirely honest with her. She deserved so much: warmth, honesty, unabashed laughter like that she had shared with Srikanta. Of all these, honesty had always been the one thing he could provide, but even that was no longer a constant.

The computer signaled the end of his search, so he returned his attention to the data on the screen.

...

Sipping her coffee, Uhura glanced up at the sound of the lift door and watched as Spock approached. He stopped when he stood directly next to her.

"Anything?" he murmured.

"No. What about you?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. I am convinced that we isolated the only source of computer infiltration."

"So either our spy backed out, or he isn't on top of things."

"Correct." He paused, glanced away for a moment, then met her eyes again, and she wondered what else he wanted to say. Before he could continue, though, they both heard a beep from her board.

"Spock!" she whispered. "This might be it."

She nodded briefly at Scotty as Spock moved to the science station. Her hands flying across the controls, she heard Spock quietly call Admiral Kirk to the bridge.

There it was. Definitely an unauthorized transmission. Origin... Enterprise. Not an unusual frequency, but she didn't recognize the protocol. She had to find out what kind of transmitter this was before they could hope to pinpoint it. Holding her breath, she muttered, "Come on, just a little more, just a little more..."

The transmission stopped.

Resisting the urge to slam her hand down on the board, she replayed the transmission. If their spy happened to check her use of the computers right now, he'd know that she was up to something, but she hoped that he was too busy sending his little message.

She saw from the corner of her eye that Kirk stood next to the science station, watching his first officer work furiously. She hadn't even heard the admiral come to the bridge. The message replayed again as she darted a glance at Scotty, but judging by the set of his shoulders, he wasn't doing any better.

She continued to work her controls, and suddenly the random noise in her ear mutated into a recognizable code. Straightening triumphantly, she crowed, "I couldn't get a fix, but I have an identification!"

Looking at Scotty, Kirk strode across the bridge. "What about you?"

"No, Admiral. I didna have enough time. But if we can get him to do it again, we'll have him."

Spock left his station to stand beside Kirk. "We can assume that he is now interested in any additional data we might gather."

"Send him something else," Kirk commanded.

"Yes, sir." Spock returned to his station.

Moving toward his chair, Kirk said, "Will it take you long to come up with something?"

Spock leaned over his board. "No. I intend to create a scan that will show a third starship joining the other two. I will be ready in approximately eight point three minutes."

Kirk nodded and sat down, so Uhura reached for her coffee. Cold. Uncaring, she pushed it to the side. She didn't want it anymore, anyway.

End chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 8

Carrying his tray, Spock followed Nyota to the table and seated himself across from Kirk. The admiral's face was shadowed with fatigue, and he knew that if he turned toward Nyota he would see similar lines of strain around her eyes. Both humans seemed to think that they could continue indefinitely, relying on willpower boosted with a hearty dose of caffeine, but Spock had finally convinced them that they must at least break for a meal if they wished to work effectively into the night.

Obviously still uncomfortable after the events of last night, Nyota gave him a vague smile and attacked her salad with vigor. "I didn't realize how hungry I was. Thank you for talking us into this, Spock."

"Thanks are not necessary. I wished to dine as well, and I thought that this would be an opportune time to absent ourselves from the bridge. Mr. Scott is quite capable of keeping matters in hand."

Kirk reached for his beverage. "I can't get over how unbelievably frustrating this has been. Nine hours for the spy to pick up our first decoy, and now another four hours and no sign that he's picked up the second. I hope we don't have to wait much longer."

Nyota grimaced. "Well, I'm not getting my hopes up. The fact that the first message was transmitted so close to 1700 hours makes me wonder if our person might have just been leaving for beta shift. If that's the case, we might have to wait until 0100 hours or later for him to get off."

"That is actually a very feasible scenario," Spock said. "You should ensure you take advantage of this break so that you can pace yourself-"

Kirk's communicator beeped, and they all straightened. Looking to his left, Spock exchanged a quick glance with Nyota. She held her napkin in mid-air, gripping it tightly, and he could not prevent his own heart rate from increasing.

"Kirk here."

Mr. Scott's voice rang out over the communicator. "We have a fix, Admiral! Deck six, section five. Quarters of Crewman Doris French. Security is on the way."

Kirk was already on his feet. "Meet us there, Scotty! Kirk out."

Dropping his fork, Spock pushed away from the table, and the three of them ran out of the cafeteria. A startled crewmember jumped out of the way, pressing herself against the wall as they dashed toward the turbolift. Kirk slapped his hand against the call button.

"Computer! Override current requests for turbolift six, priority one!"

The door opened a moment later, and once inside, Kirk yelled, "Deck six!" Looking at Spock, he said, "Doris French. The name's familiar, but I can't place her."

"She came on board approximately nine weeks ago." Spock raised an eyebrow. "She works in recycling services."

Nyota's eyes grew big. "With Ensign Gato? Do you think we have a conspiracy?"

"Such a conclusion is premature. While I doubt that this is a mere coincidence, it is possible that she gained access to his password and is using it without his approval."

The turbolift door opened to reveal Scott and Lieutenant Kovarik waiting in the corridor. Scott held an assortment of tools and a tricorder, and Kovarik towered over him, intimidating in full security gear.

Falling into step with Kirk, Scott said, "The other guard is already at her door. We tried verra hard to be quiet, so I doubt she knows we're on to her."

As they approached Crewman French's quarters, Spock saw that Scott had already opened the access panel to her door. Kovarik quickly assumed his position, flattened against the wall to the left side of her door, and motioned at the other guard, Lee, to do the same on the right. Both men had their phasers in ready position.

Visibly tense and excited, Kirk moved behind Kovarik and met Spock's eyes, then turned toward Scott and nodded.

The door slid open.

Seated at a small table directly in front of the door, Crewman French looked up with panic on her face, then frantically grabbed a small device.

Kovarik shouted, "Drop it!"

She jumped out of her chair so quickly that it toppled over behind her. The small device in her hand emitted a short whine, and before anyone could react, she pulled a phaser from seemingly out of nowhere and fired, all in one smooth motion. Spock fell to the floor, pulling Uhura with him, and Kirk ducked out of the way as her phaser fire hit the other guard then lanced across the wall behind them. Smoke and the nauseating scent of scorched insulation filled the air. Kovarik dropped to his knees and fired, catching her square in the chest, and she lurched back across the chair and lay still.

Kovarik stepped over the other guard and dashed into her quarters, but she did not move. Everything was still and silent. Smoke drifted through the hallway. Spock knelt by the unconscious guard, intending to check his pulse, when his ears detected a very faint sound.

He looked up sharply. "Admiral, I hear a rhythmic beeping. She might have armed some sort of timed device."

Kirk ran into her quarters and looked around, obviously unable to hear it, but Spock walked unerringly to the far wall of her quarters. A small box, mounted to the bulkhead, beeped and flashed in unison.

Kirk called, "Scotty! Come here!"

Holding his tricorder, Scott rushed up and scanned it. "Admiral, it's a bomb, and the main structural support for this section is directly behind the bulkhead. She knew exactly where to place it."

Spock picked up the small device from French's limp fingers and examined the controls. Speaking tersely to Scott, he said, "If I cannot disarm it, we must remove that box from the wall."

Scott reached for his tools. "Aye. You try to turn the damned thing off, and I'll work on removing it."

Kirk yelled over his shoulder. "Uhura! Call the bridge and tell them to seal off section five!"

Already standing at the intercom across the hall, she said, "I'm trying, sir, but she disabled communications. I should be able to patch directly into the ship's computer."

"Do it."

As Uhura pried the cover off, Kirk grabbed Kovarik's arm. "Evacuate this corridor and seal it off. Go to the bridge if you have to. Take French with you. We need her."

Spock discarded the small controller as Kovarik hefted French over his shoulder and left. Moving over to help Scott, he said, "Admiral, I cannot disarm it. We have three minutes and twenty-one seconds until detonation. I doubt that Kovarik will make it to the bridge in time to seal this area."

"Damn. If Uhura can get through to the transporter room, maybe we can beam it out into space."

"Admiral," said Scott, "it's unlikely they could get a fix on something this small so quickly. Our best hope is to throw it out the airlock."

"Do it, then!" Kirk began dragging the unconscious security guard down the hall. Spock, standing by Scott's shoulder, heard him call out, "Uhura! Any luck?"

"Not yet!"

Scott frantically tried to loosen the magnetic bolts. "It's no use, Mr. Spock. These won't budge."

Spock's internal clock counted the time. Two minutes and four seconds until detonation. He dropped the magnetic screwdriver and looked around for a lever.

Kirk's heavy footsteps pounded back in their direction. "Uhura?"

"Getting there."

Spock wrenched the arm off the chair and jammed it into the tiny gap between the box and the wall. Addressing Kirk over his shoulder, he said, "Admiral! Take Uhura and Scott, and evacuate the corridor!"

Kirk wrapped his fingers around the strip of metal and tugged with Spock. "No! I can help you with this!"

One minute and eight seconds.

Spock abandoned the lever and pushed Scott out of the way, then worked his fingers into the gap. It was a minuscule amount wider than seconds ago. Kirk continued to grapple with the lever as Scott ran out to assist Uhura.

Forty-two seconds.

The muscles in his arms aching, the sharp edges of the metal biting into his fingers, Spock rocked the small box with all his strength. It had definitely begun to give.

"Twenty-nine seconds, Admiral."

"Uhura!" Kirk called out breathlessly. "If you don't have it in another nineteen seconds, run for cover!"

"I can get this!" A desperate edge had crept into her voice. "I know I can. We have to seal this section!"

Using his weight, Spock pulled back on the box, but his fingers were too slick and he lost his grip. He stumbled backwards against the fallen chair. Wiping his bloody fingers on his pants, he shouted, "Fifteen seconds!"

Kirk's face was red with exertion as he strained to push the lever farther behind the box. "Keep... trying..."

Spock took a deep breath and grabbed the box again. His hands were stiff and bruised, and at first he was not certain he could flex them enough to find purchase, but somehow he forced his fingers securely around the sharp edges.

Spock called out, "Ten... nine..."

Kirk shouted, "Scotty! Uhura! Run!"

"Eight... seven..."

"I have it, Admiral!" Uhura's voice was triumphant. "Computer, seal deck six, section five!"

"Six... five..."

With a grating screech, the box tore away from the wall. Both Kirk and Spock fell to the floor, but Spock quickly snatched it up and ran through the door. From the corner of his vision, he saw Uhura yelling into the intercom, but he did not spare any attention for her words. All he knew was that he had to get the bomb into the pressure vent disposal.

His concentration was so finely honed that everything seemed as if it were happening in slow motion, as if he were looking through a tunnel and moving in a thick substance. He rushed to the wall. He yanked the small door open and shoved the box through. He slapped the "dispose" button then threw himself in the opposite direction. As his eyes raked across the corridor, he saw Uhura nod at Scott and step away from the intercom...

Suddenly, an enormously loud noise shook the air, and dozens of sharp pinpricks stabbed into his back, stinging him like a swarm of bees. He felt his feet leave the floor, and before he could get his hands fully in front of him, a hard surface impacted with his forehead. Debris rained down all around him.

Everything was quiet once again.

He lay with his face against the cool floor for a long moment, trying to regain his bearings. The air was so thick with smoke that he could hardly breathe, but gradually he realized that he was not in the vacuum of space. The bomb had evidently inflicted some damage, but the structure of the ship had held. He was alive. The others were alive, too, because they began to cough and choke.

Raising himself slowly, he looked around through burning eyes. Kirk was right in front of him, stretched out on his back, but as Spock watched, he drew his leg up and brought his hands to his face. Spock pushed himself to his feet and swayed unsteadily.

Their figures were unclear through the smoke, but Spock saw Scott and Uhura sprawled out on the other side of the corridor. Scott groaned and rolled onto his back, but Uhura was motionless.

She did not move.

Her eyes were closed, she was on her back, and she was utterly still.

Coughing, Spock rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand as he stumbled through the smoke. Small bits of metal and glass crunched under his boots. He knelt and looked closely at her face.

Her expression was peaceful as a tiny stream of crimson trickled from her brow, ran across her right eye, and dripped onto the floor by her ear. The cut was minute, like a delicate little incision on her forehead. She did not move. As still as death, she did not move. His blood flowed like ice water as he reached a tentative hand toward her neck.

Her skin was warm against his cold fingers, and he closed his eyes when he felt the weak, thready pulse.

Scott came to his knees and crawled to her other side. "Is she...?"

Not answering, Spock gently ran his fingers behind her head, but when he pulled them away, the only blood he saw was his own.

As if from a great distance, Spock heard Kirk's voice. "Kirk to bridge. Send a team to deck six to check for structural damage. Also, we require medical assistance. Commander Uhura is down."

Kneeling next to Scotty, Kirk murmured, "Maybe it was just the force of the blast. We all hit the floor pretty hard. I can tell that you're going to have a nasty bruise."

Spock absently lifted his hand to his forehead and glanced up at Kirk.

Worry evident on his features, Kirk said, "McCoy was already on his way. He'll be here soon."

Spock nodded and dropped his hand, allowing his fingertips to barely brush her torso. He did so from the illogical need to touch her, to reassure himself with the gentle movement of her respiration, but what he found caused his eyes to widen in alarm. Her uniform was wet. Soaked. With blood.

Inhaling sharply, he pulled open her jacket and had to steady himself at the sight. A large, jagged piece of shrapnel protruded from her midsection, and a huge red stain spread from the center of her white shirt.

Scott whispered, "Oh my God, Nyota. I didna know, lass... Your red jacket... I didna know."

Suddenly, Spock felt himself being shoved to the side, and he realized belatedly that McCoy had done it. The doctor cursed as he held his scanner over Uhura's still body, then shouted at the people who were running through the corridor in their direction.

"Smithson! Uhura has a foreign object embedded in her torso, directly beneath her ribcage on the right upper quadrant of her abdomen. Severe laceration of the liver and other internal injuries. Blood pressure dangerously low and dropping. We need to get her to sickbay immediately, but we have to extract the object before we can move her!"

The moment Smithson dropped to her knees, McCoy smoothly pulled out the ugly piece of metal and tossed it on the floor. The flow of blood increased, but Smithson pressed a handful of steri-gauze against the wound as they lifted Uhura onto the antigrav stretcher.

Spock stood, helpless, speechless, and watched as they carried her away.

Kirk moved close. "Spock, I need you here right now," he said softly. "Can you help me?"

Spock looked down. The bloodstained piece of metal lay on the floor by his feet. Taking a deep breath, he nodded.

"Of course, Admiral."

Kirk nodded back, and together they turned toward the gaping hole that was once the cover of the pressure vent disposal.

End chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 9

Late in the ship's night, Spock sat in sickbay and gazed at the still figure on the bed before him. Shadows lay across her face, broken only by the faint glow of the diagnostics. The small red light illuminated her features like an eerie beacon, its rhythmic pulse a talisman against pain and harm, and he found himself listening for the next beep, the next beep, the next beep of the monitor.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, seeking a way to rest his back without aggravating his injuries. After events had finally calmed in the early hours of the new day, McCoy had removed forty-three tiny pieces of shrapnel from his shoulders, back, and scalp, and the resulting tenderness was yet another remnant of their ordeal. Of course, his own discomfort was meaningless. The insignificant wounds in his flesh would heal. The memory of his earlier desolate fright, however, and the vague undercurrent of panic that had hovered beneath his actions in the aftermath of the blast, would not leave him so quickly.

He had worked with Kirk, Scott, and a number of specialists to brace the damage to the ship and inspect French's quarters for any clues to her covert activities. He knew that his conduct had been efficient, his mind no less sharp and his attention uncompromised, yet he had not been able to shake the sense of impending dread throughout the entire four hours and twelve minutes they had worked. When he and Kirk finally received the call from sickbay informing them that Nyota had come through surgery and would survive, he had been unable to stop himself from closing his eyes and sagging in relief. But the sense of precariousness had not eased.

Humans were fragile beings. They possessed great strength of will and bottomless emotional fortitude, but the vessels that contained their hardy souls were easily damaged. His mother was fragile. The humans that surrounded him were fragile. Nyota, her life preserved only because a skilled doctor could put the pieces back together, was fragile.

How could he tell her about the brutality of pon farr now?

She would be vulnerable when she awakened, weak and frail, and he could not burden her with the knowledge. Indeed, how could he even think of subjecting her to the strength of his desire someday, using her to satisfy his own uncontrolled urges, leaving her bruised and sore? He could not bear to see apprehension in her eyes as she gazed at him, or pity or disgust.

He thought again of his own mother. How could his father have taken an Earth woman? She had seemed tall and strong and invincible to his young eyes, yet as he gazed at Nyota's sunken features, he remembered a morning during his sixth year. His mother's sleeve had slipped as she placed his breakfast before him, and he saw a bruise, a vivid, ugly bruise on her arm, purple and red and yellow... and it had been in the shape of his father's hand.

He had hated his father at that moment. He had not understood exactly what it all meant, but when he had looked up at his mother's face, he had seen the exhaustion that pinched her features. She had quickly pulled down her sleeve and turned away, and he had picked up his spoon and eaten. He remembered clearly his bowl of oatmeal, sprinkled generously with raisins and nuts-the texture of it, the taste of it. But he had pushed away the rest of the memories from that day. How could he have forgotten? Even when placed in the context of inescapable Vulcan biology and viewed through mature eyes rather than those of an uncomprehending child, the event was disturbing.

His gaze fell again on Nyota's face. Instead of the rich brown shade that he always found so lovely, her color was almost gray. Great circles marred the smooth skin under her eyes, and her lips were parched. If he removed the thin layers of fabric that covered her, he would find a shiny expanse of new skin, slick and unwelcoming to his touch, covering the patched and mended violation that had nearly drained her life's blood.

It was time for him to think of his future with this woman. Although he would not be forced into a decision for well over three years, he had come to understand only recently that he could not expect to merely maintain the status quo until then. Ironically, it was Saavik who had driven him to this realization. In the four months since his trip to England with Nyota, Saavik had repeatedly demanded that he and Nyota wed. Finally, he had told Saavik that he did not wish to hear it anymore, but the idea had been planted. The expectations were obvious. A Vulcan, driven by the cycles of his biological drive, could allow events to unfold as they may until the time came to change them, but a human, driven by the desires of the heart, would expect something else entirely.

This all led to only one conclusion. He should terminate his relationship with her. As McCoy would say, he should "fish or cut bait." If he could not envision the long-term, he should not continue the short-term.

But...

He _could_ envision the long-term. As he had known since that very first night, she filled an emptiness that he had not even known existed until suddenly she was there. Filling him, completing him. He would be incomplete without her. Did he really have the strength to push her away and live with the emptiness that would be left behind?

In addition, he must consider the fact that this was not a decision to be made by himself. He had operated his entire life in a vacuum of sorts, knowing that his actions directly impacted no one but himself. Now, however, that had changed. He had Nyota, and he had Saavik. They both would be greatly affected were he to sunder the relationship without an explanation. And the explanation was the problem in the first place.

Could he truly make her happy? Satisfy her needs? She asked so little of him, yet she deserved so much. And he knew her too well to think that she would ultimately desire anything less than a rich life, with all the fullness and joys that might bring. He could not laugh with her. He could not even smile with her. He obviously could not keep her safe from harm.

But neither could he envision his life without her.

...

Kirk nodded at McCoy's nurse as he walked into sickbay. The young man's eyes widened at Kirk's disreputable appearance, and Kirk could only smile and shake his head. He hadn't seen a mirror recently, but there was no doubt that he looked pretty ragged. After hitting the floor like a ton of bricks, digging through rubble, combing a crewman's quarters, supervising a long interrogation, and missing out on at least five hours sleep, he figured that he was probably scary enough to frighten small children.

His smile faded when he stepped into the back room. There sat his friend in the dark, hands folded, posture slumped, staring without expression at Uhura's inert form.

He cleared his throat, and Spock blinked and straightened. "Admiral."

"How's it going?" Kirk pulled over a chair and sat down.

Turning back toward Uhura, Spock said, "Her condition is unchanged but stable."

"That's good."

They gazed at her until Kirk said, "French finally talked."

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Spock faced him again. "Indeed? What did you learn?"

"She was selling information to the Orions, who were in turn selling it to the Klingons. She's filled with unfocused hatred, and she rigged that suicide bomb in case she was discovered."

"Do you know her motives?"

Kirk took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat. "Money. Revenge. I don't know what else. She's unbalanced, and we had a hard time getting clear answers out of her. Said that the Klingons were building some sort of 'secret base' near Epsilon Triana, and that they were going to take over the Federation and enslave everyone except her and the people who were nice to her. She's so delusional we don't know what to believe. It does appear that she was acting alone, however."

"It is likely that the truth is buried somewhere in her statement, for someone is clearly passing information to the Klingons, and both the Klingons and the Orions would benefit from a base in the neutral zone."

"That's what I thought, too. I contacted Captain Ames, and the Lexington is en route to the Epsilon Triana area. Maybe they can find out what's going on, since we aren't moving anytime soon."

"Has Mr. Scott established a plan to fix the damage?"

"Yes. He won't know for certain until he gets into it, but he thinks that it will be about eighteen hours before we can go into warp again."

Spock nodded and turned back toward Uhura, and a moment later Kirk turned, too. She seemed diminished as she lay in the bed, her only movement the barely perceptible rise and fall of her chest, and Kirk couldn't remember ever seeing her stilled so completely. Even though she lived her life with an inner serenity, she was always lively and animated. So different than Spock. He propped his forearms on his knees and leaned close.

"The last time I was alone with her, we quarreled," Spock said, so quietly that Kirk could hardly understand him.

Kirk sat up and turned toward Spock. "What?"

Spock sighed but did not look away from Uhura. "Two evenings ago, we argued," he said dispassionately. "She became angry. I left. I have not been alone with her since, unless you count my time here in

sickbay."

Kirk frowned, uncertain how to respond. "I was with the two of you almost all day yesterday, and she didn't act mad."

"I believe that she was no longer angry, but I could see that she was hurt and uncomfortable."

"And now you regret it?"

"Regret is illogical. But... yes. I would change my behavior given the opportunity."

Kirk smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. You'll have plenty of time to tell her that. Later."

"Yes. Fortunately."

They fell silent again until Kirk stood. "I believe that it's time for me to get some sleep. Are you going to stay here?"

"Yes, Jim. I will see you on the bridge at 0800 hours."

"Don't be in a hurry. Everything is under control, and Marliss is prepared to take the beginning of your shift. Stay here as long as you need. And try to get some rest."

Spock nodded, so Kirk patted his friend lightly on the shoulder and left the room.

...

Dimly aware that something wasn't right, Uhura licked her lips and stirred slightly. Her mouth was utterly dry, like it was full of cotton. And what was that awful beeping sound? She'd been dreaming about it all night, the dull repetition a tortuous intrusion into her sleep, and she wished someone would just turn it off.

Moaning softly, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and mumbled, "Make it stop."

"Nyota?"

She swallowed. Her lips and voice wouldn't cooperate. "Turn it off."

"Doctor? She is awakening."

Her eyes fluttered open. "Spock?"

"Yes, Nyota."

"Where..." She licked her lips again. "Where am I?"

"You are in sickbay, recovering from injuries you sustained in the explosion. Do you remember?"

Blinking, she realized that she was on a diagnostic bed, and Spock was sitting in a chair by her side. She tried to focus on his features. "The bomb... You tore it off the wall..."

"It exploded before it was completely out the airlock. The force of the blast blew the cover off the pressure vent disposal, and you were hit by the shrapnel."

She closed her eyes for a moment, but reopened them when she heard footsteps.

"Good morning, Commander. I'm glad you decided to wake up and join us." Dr. McCoy stood beside Spock and rested his hand on her arm. "How do you feel?"

"Sore. Thirsty." She moved to sit up, but a sharp pain forced her to flop back onto the bed. Bringing her hand up to her stomach, she groaned. "Oh. It hurts."

"I'm sure it does, my dear." McCoy held his scanner over the source of her pain. "Hang on a moment, and I'll get something to take care of that."

She watched him walk away, then looked at Spock. "Was anyone else hurt?" Her words were so slurred that she sounded drunk.

"Other than a few minor injuries, no. Only you. Nyota..." He studied his hands, clasped in his lap. "Your injuries were very severe. We did not know if Dr. McCoy could save you, and as I waited, our disagreement of two nights ago played continuously through my mind."

She waited until he looked back up at her. "It doesn't matter," she whispered weakly.

McCoy returned with a hypo and pressed it to her arm. "There. That ought to take care of the discomfort in your abdominal muscles. I had to do quite a bit of repair work in there."

"Spock said that I almost died."

"Yes, you gave us all quite a scare. Your liver was sliced nearly clean in half, with puncture wounds in your diaphragm, lung, and small intestine. It's a good thing I was able to get to you so quickly, because just a few more minutes..."

His words drifted away, and the diagnostic bed beeped in the silence.

"We were lucky," said Spock.

McCoy turned toward Spock in disbelief, and Uhura smiled despite the soreness of her dry lips. Before they could respond, Spock stood and straightened his jacket.

"It is 0820 hours, and I am past due on the bridge. I will return later."

He turned crisply and walked away. McCoy watched until the sickbay door closed behind him, then shook his head.

"That damned Vulcan. He's been hovering over you for the past seven hours, pale as a ghost, but as soon as you're awake he pretends like he doesn't even care."

Uhura could feel McCoy's painkillers coursing through her veins, and suddenly her eyes were so heavy she couldn't keep them open. "S'okay. I know... cares..."

McCoy continued to grumble, but his words were drowned out by the rhythmic beeping of her chemically-induced haze.

End chapter 9


	10. Chapter 10

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 10

Peering into the person-sized hole cut in the wall outside French's quarters, Kirk watched as Scotty's crew repaired the weakened areas in the ship's structure. Damn, but that was a close call last night. If the bomb had done this kind of damage from within the pressure vent disposal, just think what it would have done attached to the bulkhead.

He glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw Spock. Spock looked tired, no doubt about it. Kirk couldn't remember the last time he had seen noticeable fatigue on Spock's features, but it was certainly there now, etched clearly in the long vertical lines that emphasized the patrician angles of his face.

"Good news," Kirk said. "I talked to Scotty five minutes ago, and he's ahead of schedule. He thinks we'll be ready in another six hours."

"That is indeed good news. We just received a message from Captain Ames. They have begun long-range scanning but still cannot determine a reason for the Klingon activity. He estimates arrival at 2300 hours."

Kirk nodded. "If Scotty's right and we can withstand warp soon, we won't be far behind them."

"Correct. I will be most interested to discover what, if anything, lies at the coordinates of the Klingon's altered flight path."

"You and me both." Spock fell into step as Kirk started down the corridor. "No offense Spock, but you look like you could use some rest. Why don't you take a break for a while? Scotty is resting, and we can all meet back here when the repairs are complete."

Spock took a deep breath. "I would welcome the opportunity to meditate."

"Go ahead. Take advantage of this down time while you can."

"Might I suggest that you do the same? I anticipate that the coming days will be full."

"Yes, I'm planning on going to my quarters soon." Kirk stepped into the turbolift, accompanied by Spock. "Deck seven."

He waited for Spock to state his destination, but Spock was silent. After a moment, he looked at Spock and asked, "Where to?"

"The same."

Kirk grinned. "On your way to sickbay?"

"Yes. You, also?"

"Yes. I feel bad that I haven't had a chance to talk to Uhura since the blast. How is she doing?"

"According to Dr. McCoy, she is alert and out of pain. He may release her from sickbay late tomorrow."

"According to McCoy? Haven't you talked to her?"

"Briefly. We spoke when she regained consciousness, but she was groggy and confused. When I visited sickbay before my midday meal, she was asleep."

Kirk shook his head. "I wouldn't want to be you right now. It's nearly 1500 hours, and you haven't even had a decent conversation with her yet? She's not going to be happy with you, and I won't blame her."

Spock regarded him cautiously. "We will have more than enough time later."

"That's not the point, Spock. You almost lost her last night. Forever! No more 'laters,' no more 'tomorrows.' If you can treat today like it's just another day, well..." Kirk shook his head. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Spock did not react, his face utterly still as Kirk looked into his eyes. Neither of them spoke, and finally Spock turned away, but not before Kirk saw a flicker of uncertainty cloud his careful non-expression. Bone weary, Kirk realized with a heavy chest that he had been unfair to his friend. Of course her near-death meant something to him. Hell, it meant more than something. It meant everything. He was just coping the only way he knew how.

The lift opened onto deck seven. As they stepped out, Kirk murmured, "Spock, just tell her."

Looking straight ahead, he said, "Tell her what, Admiral?"

"That you were afraid. That it shook you up."

Still facing ahead, Spock raised his chin. He didn't answer, but Kirk saw his jaw muscles tighten. So. Spock was going to deal with it by pretending it didn't happen. Kirk thought that was a mistake, but he'd already made his point. Spock might choose not to listen right now, but Kirk knew his words had been heard.

They entered sickbay to find Uhura sitting up in bed and Scott comfortably ensconced in the chair beside her. Kirk felt a huge, silly smile spread across his face at the sight, but he couldn't help it. Uhura was healthy, whole, and looking more like her old self once again. He'd known that she was on the road to recovery, but just seeing her lifted an oppressive weight off his shoulders. She looked up, and her features were transformed with pleasure. Of course, Kirk saw that her gaze rested not on himself but on the man with him, but that was all right. He was simply glad to see animation on that beautiful face again.

Kirk moved close. "Scotty! I thought that you were going to take a nap."

Scott looked at Uhura with affection in his eyes. "Aye, Admiral, but I just couldn't rest without having seen this lovely lass first."

"Well, I can understand that." Kirk rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, Admiral. I can move around, and the cobwebs are gone from my skull."

Scotty beamed. "I was just telling Uhura about how glad we were when Dr. McCoy told us she would pull through." He reached for her hand. "We all had quite a scare."

Uhura glanced up at Spock with wide eyes, and Kirk caught his breath at the look that passed between them. _Tell her, Spock! Tell her now, damn it!_ If Spock had intended to say something, however, he waited too long, for Scotty squeezed her hand, and she finally turned away.

"Lass, I want to apologize for not coming to see you sooner. I've been verra busy. That bomb was a nasty one. Did anyone tell you that it blew the cover of the pressure vent disposal clean off?"

She bit her lip. "Yes, I think so..."

"I told you that this morning, but you were not entirely coherent at the time," Spock said softly.

"I vaguely remember, but it's foggy and disjointed, like a dream. Did we also talk about the fact that no one else was injured?"

"That is correct."

"And luck?"

"Yes."

Once again, she gazed into Spock's eyes, and the private smile that whispered across her lips made Kirk decide that it was probably time for him to leave.

"Scotty." Kirk motioned toward the door. "You look exhausted. Come on, I'll walk with you. We need to get some sleep while we can."

Shaking his head stubbornly, Scotty said, "Thank ye, Admiral, but I'm not quite ready yet. You go on without me."

Uhura smiled sweetly. "Oh Scotty, I really appreciate your visit, but you do look tired. Why don't you go with Admiral Kirk? We can talk later."

"Nonsense." Scott patted her hand. "You've been cooped up in sickbay all day by yourself, and after what you've been through it's the least I can do. Don't say another word about it."

She looked up helplessly at Spock, but he had already taken a step back. "I am gratified to see that you are well, Commander. Enjoy your visit with Mr. Scott. I will return later."

She frowned. "But, Spock-"

Scotty pulled his chair closer. "Let me tell ye about how French managed to disable communications. Ye won't believe what she did!"

Drawing himself up stiffly as Uhura raised her eyebrows in entreaty, Spock nodded once and turned to leave. Her face fell, and Kirk resolved to kick his old friend in the ass if that's what it took to make him loosen up.

Shrugging, Kirk said, "I'll check in with you this evening, Commander. I'm so glad to see you looking better. You did give us a real fright, _all_ of us."

She smiled wanly and nodded, so Kirk hurried to catch up with Spock.

...

Spock fastened the clasp at the front of his meditation robe as he walked slowly toward his ceremonial goblet. He would prepare tea, and perhaps by the time the tea was ready, he would be ready as well. Now, however, he was too unsettled to meditate.

He found that he was rather irritated with Admiral Kirk at the moment. Such an emotion was undignified and inappropriate-in short, entirely unsuitable-but nevertheless it existed. Kirk had suggested that his, Spock's, actions were somehow inadequate in sickbay, but truly, what had the admiral expected of him? A distasteful emotional scene? Professions of devotion? Such behavior would have been indecorous even had the setting been private, and utterly scandalous displayed in front of others.

In addition, why should Kirk imply that Spock needed to actually voice his apprehension and, yes, fear of yesterday evening? Nyota was an insightful woman. She and he had been involved long enough that she understood him. Words were not necessary when one's actions demonstrated one's intent and beliefs. Indeed, Kirk had known Spock long enough to comprehend that fundamental tenet of Vulcan philosophy. Why he had seen the need to urge Spock to act otherwise was baffling. Of course Nyota was a human woman, with different requirements and desires. Did Kirk believe that Spock thought otherwise?

Closing his eyes, he lifted the fragrant tea and inhaled. He would find his calm center, he would meditate, and he would visit sickbay when able. A quiet talk with Nyota was overdue, but he would not steer the discussion toward the maudlin sentiments espoused by Admiral Kirk.

...

Uhura pushed the viewer away and flopped back against her pillow. Why did Dr. McCoy insist that she stay overnight in sickbay? She felt fine. This was torture! If she looked up at the chronometer, she knew that she'd see 2239 glowing in big red numbers. Sickbay was dim, McCoy was gone, Smithson was knocking around in the other room, everyone else was probably busy... This would be an ideal time to try to sleep, but she had done little more than sleep all day, and the thought of putting her head on the pillow was excruciating. She pulled the viewer back and paged idly through the ship bulletin board.

The outer door opened and she heard Smithson say, "Commander Spock! What are you doing still up and about? You aren't planning on staying up all night again, are you? Dr. McCoy is going to read you the riot act."

"Dr. McCoy knows that I can function effectively without sleep. Is Commander Uhura awake?"

Uhura chuckled at Smithson's snort when Spock changed the subject. Smithson was a female version of McCoy if she'd ever seen one-gruff and no-nonsense. Even though Spock was a master of the evasive statement, Smithson always saw right through him. She evidently decided to let him get away with it this time, because she said, "Last I checked, she was wide-awake and reading. Go on in."

"Thank you."

Uhura smiled when Spock walked into the room. "Hi, Spock. I felt the ship go into warp about twenty minutes ago. Been busy?"

"Yes, extremely. Mr. Scott encountered complications late in his repairs, and I have been following a line of research. Now that we are underway, my presence will not be required again until Lexington contacts us."

He stood by the bedside and studied her. His eyes were very dark—she could see tiny lines of strain around them-and he did not look away as he lifted his hand and extended two fingers for the ritual embrace. Quickly pressing her own hand to his, she swallowed, moved by the intensity of his expression. Suddenly, the mere touch of his fingers wasn't enough, and she longed to feel his arms around her, to hear him tell her about the awfulness of the last twenty-four hours and how terrifying it had been to think that he might lose her. Instead, though, he simply continued to scrutinize her face until he finally withdrew his hand and sat down.

"I apologize for the lateness of my visit. As you know, my earlier attempts to be alone with you were unsuccessful."

"Yes, I know," she said. "Sorry I couldn't get rid of Scotty this afternoon. He was so sweet to come by. I couldn't ask him to leave."

"I understand. You look well."

"I feel pretty good. There's still a little tenderness in my abdomen, but all in all I feel much better than I did when I first woke up this morning." She rested her hand on his knee. "Dr. McCoy told me that you were hit by shrapnel, too."

"My injuries were minor and easily repaired."

She squeezed his knee. "Well, I was really proud of the way you persevered until the bomb was in the chute, even though it could have gone off in your hands. I can't even think about what might have happened. It's just too terrible to contemplate."

"I merely did what was necessary. If you recall, you also stayed with your task despite my recommendation that you seek cover."

She grinned at the blatant disapproval in his tone. "I guess you're not the only one who can be stubborn."

Raising an eyebrow, he didn't comment, but she got the message loud and clear. _Obviously_. She laughed and patted his knee again before removing her hand.

"You will be interested to hear that Admiral Kirk and I have worked closely with your protege, Lieutenant Feinstein, to uncover some illuminating information about Crewman French."

"Oh, really? What is it?"

"Using a small scrap of paper found in her quarters, Feinstein traced her financial records to an unregulated account on Mars. The account had been opened under false identification and has a very high credit balance. He came to me with the information, and we proceeded on the assumption that this account was central to the investigation. We learned that the funds are from periodic transfers from an Orion account belonging to one Nolan Torsall."

"That doesn't sound much like an Orion name."

"It is not. Nolan Torsall is human. Although he has been investigated multiple times for criminal dealings, he has never been convicted. He divides his time between his residence in Hong Kong and his business office. Perhaps not coincidentally, Crewman French's Starfleet records show a lapse in service, during which time she also resided in Hong Kong."

"Wow."

He nodded. "The most startling fact is that Nolan Torsall is listed as one of the founders of the Nistras Three dilithium mine. He profited heavily from its sale to the Federation."

"What?" Uhura sat up straighter in the bed. "That's incredible! What do you think it means?"

"It is too soon to say. Obviously there is a connection, but we must conduct more research. We are en route to Nistras Three while the Lexington continues toward Epsilon Triana. I suspect that Captain Ames will find nothing at his destination, in which case it will become apparent that we were all duped. Including Crewman French, assuming that she believes her most recent statements to be true."

"That's a lot to swallow. The three of you learned all of this just since I last talked to you?"

"Yes. Once Feinstein found the account, the rest of the investigation fell neatly into place. He is quite skilled, by the way."

"I know he is. I wish that I could have been around to help as well. It's all so fascinating."

"There is undoubtedly still much to learn. I will be pleased to have your assistance whenever you are able to join us."

She nodded, but before she could reply the intercom wailed. "Kirk to Spock."

Coming to his feet, he walked over to the comm panel. "Spock here."

"The Lexington is approaching Epsilon Triana. I need you on the bridge."

"On my way. Spock out." He turned back toward Uhura. "It is time for you to rest. I will speak with you in the morning."

"Before you go, tell me where Torsall's business office is located."

He raised his eyebrow. "Nistras Three."

Smiling grimly, she nodded. He held her eyes for a moment longer, then turned and left.

Alone once again, she sighed and tugged on the viewer, but her eyes glazed over as she stared at it. Conspiracy? Fraud? Deception? Who knew what they had uncovered? She couldn't wait to get out of bed and help dig to the bottom of this.

End chapter 10


	11. Chapter 11

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 11

Leaning back in his chair while he waited for Spock and Feinstein to join the briefing, Kirk listened to Ames, Lenox, and Scotty speculate on the connection between Torsall and the Klingons. Spirits were high. The Lexington had arrived less than ten minutes ago, covering the distance between Epsilon Triana and Nistras Three at top speed, and now both ships orbited the planet as it was decided what to do next.

The door opened and Kirk glanced up, expecting to hear Spock's analysis of the Nistran shipping records. Instead, however, Uhura walked into the room. She was still a bit shaky, but the expression on her face made it obvious that she was glad to be present.

Ames was the first to react. "Commander! Come on in! We heard about your injuries, and we were all worried sick. How are you doing?"

She took a seat next to him. "Oh, I guess I'm not much the worse for wear. How are things on the Lexington?"

"It was pretty dull while we waited to hear from the Enterprise, but from what I hear we got the better part of the deal. We've been going full speed since Admiral Kirk gave us the go-ahead."

Everyone turned as the door opened again, and this time Spock strode briskly through the door followed closely by Feinstein. Obviously unaware that Uhura had been released from sickbay, Spock checked his step so abruptly that Feinstein almost ran into him. Kirk rested his elbow on the table and covered his mouth so that no one would see him smile.

Quickly regaining his composure, Spock said, "Commander, it is agreeable to see you. Did Dr. McCoy release you with a clean bill of health?"

Uhura grinned, obviously delighted at his reaction. "Yes, he did. I had to promise him I'd take it easy for a few days, but I'm back with you."

Kirk waited until Spock and Feinstein found places at the table. "So, Spock. What did you find?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, Admiral. The amount of dilithium shipped from Nistras Three is commensurate with an operation of this size. All entries appear valid, appropriately notated and filed. We found no evidence of forgery."

Uhura frowned. "Forgery? You were looking for forgery?"

"Our working theory is that Torsall misrepresented the mine in some manner," replied Spock. "It is possible that there is more on Nistras Three than dilithium, thus his continued interest, and that he enlisted the Klingons' assistance in pursuing it. Where the Orions fit into this, and why Torsall would sell the mine in the first place, I do not know."

"What about French?" asked Ames. "Has she told you anything new?"

Kirk shook his head. "No, but she is the weak link in the chain. I spoke briefly with Command this morning, and they agreed to offer her a reduced sentence in exchange for cooperation. McCoy administered a battery of psychological tests and corroborated our theory that she's telling what she believes to be the truth, no matter how twisted it sounds to our ears."

"Spock told me that both French and Torsall lived in Hong Kong," said Uhura, "which indicates that they know one another. Could it be that he deceived her into thinking that the Klingons were building a base near Epsilon Triana? Have you asked her about him?"

"We haven't told her yet that we connected her with Torsall, but I think it's time to do that. When she finds out that he used her, it might put her in an entirely new frame of mind. She might help us go after him."

Ames smiled. "I like that approach, Admiral. This Torsall is evidently a shady character, and it's fitting that we use his own manipulations to manipulate him."

"That's what I thought." Kirk stood. "Feinstein, bring Uhura up to speed on our investigation into the mining company, and you two pursue that. Captain Ames, I would like for you and Lenox to work with French. Mr. Spock, I believe that it's time for us to pay a visit to the offices of the mining company."

"Agreed, Admiral."

Already halfway to the door, Kirk paused as Spock hovered protectively behind Uhura, waiting for her to come to her feet. It was clear that she was still in some pain, for she winced and let Spock grasp her elbow to assist her. Kirk was reminded of the times on the bridge when she got into difficulty, and Spock was always right there to help.

A moment later, Spock joined Kirk, and they headed for the transporter room.

...

Back in her quarters on the Lexington, Uhura carried the last of her toiletries into the fresher and shoved them into the cabinet. Who would have thought she'd accumulate so much stuff in her year on the Lexington? It sure hadn't seemed like she'd lugged this much from the Enterprise when she'd transferred, but maybe having to pack and unpack twice in less than a week had something to do with it.

She watched as Spock pulled garments from her suitcase and methodically refolded them, then carried the stack to her dresser. She knew that she'd have to rearrange it all later, but right now, she didn't care.

"Spock? Let's go on to bed. I'll take care of the rest sometime else."

"If you are tired, I will continue."

"No, thanks." She shrugged out of her jacket. "I'd rather just leave it."

"Very well."

She rummaged around until she discovered where he had put her nightclothes, and handed him the soft, faded silk pajama pants she had bought so long ago. Changing into her nightgown, she quickly prepared for bed, but when she came out of the fresher, she saw that he'd been unable to resist unpacking the last few items and hadn't even started getting ready yet.

She stretched out on the bed. "Are you coming?"

"Yes. I will be there shortly."

He hung his uniform in her closet, then stepped into the pajama pants and tied the drawstring. What a beautiful man-tall and lean-she loved watching him move around without his clothes on, unself-conscious with his poise and grace. She smiled at the domesticity of their setting as he walked into the fresher and began brushing his teeth. Maybe, finally, they could get back to some semblance of normality around here. It would only last as long as the current mission, but she'd take every moment she could get.

She closed her eyes until she felt him sit on the edge of the bed.

Concern in his expression, he leaned over her and asked, "Are you feeling worse?"

"No, I'm just worn out. Probably overdid it today. All I need is a good night's rest in my own bed."

He held his hands over the front of her nightgown. "May I?"

"Sure."

He carefully opened her gown until he had exposed the new skin on her belly. When she had looked earlier, herself, she had been reminded of the patchwork quilt draped across her grandmother's bed, but the old quilt was a thing of beauty, whereas her belly was just plain ugly, the new skin shiny and rubbery, the color and texture all wrong.

He was very quiet as he ran his fingers gently across her stomach. She could hardly feel his touch. The area was numb, and if she didn't know that he had pulled away her clothing, she might have thought that she was still dressed.

Staring at the area where her wounds had been, he murmured, "We did not even understand that you were severely wounded at first, Nyota. I thought that perhaps you had only hit your head. You were bleeding to death, right before my eyes, yet I did not see the blood on your red jacket. It was only when I accidentally brushed my fingers against it that I realized what had happened."

Her eyes wide at his trancelike manner, she didn't comment.

He continued. "I opened your jacket and saw the jagged metal protruding from your abdomen. I knew immediately that you might die, but I did not know what to do. Removing the metal myself would have caused more harm. Not removing the metal would have allowed you to bleed to death."

"What happened?" she whispered.

"McCoy arrived." He finally met her eyes. "He pushed me away and removed the shrapnel himself, and hurried you to sickbay."

"Oh, Spock."

Looking down again, he rested his palm on her stomach and spread his fingers, covering the new skin with his hand, then abruptly pulled away and stretched out next to her.

She propped herself up on her elbow. "I know that you would have done anything in your power to help me, Spock. Don't feel bad."

His expression, so open just an instant ago, became withdrawn and remote. "How I 'feel' is irrelevant. The fact of the matter is that I almost failed you. Indeed, I was not expedient enough in disposing of the bomb in the first place. And in refusing to leave, you placed yourself in unnecessary danger."

Her tender feelings vanished. "Are you telling me that it's all right for you to risk your neck, but not me? That your near-sacrifice was worthy, but mine was not? What would have happened if you hadn't been able to dispose of the bomb, and I'd left the corridor unsealed?"

"The damage to the ship would have been extensive either way."

"But less with the corridor sealed."

He grudgingly acknowledged her point. "Yes."

"And where the hell do you get off blaming yourself for not getting rid of the bomb in time? Didn't you try your best?"

"Of course-"

"Of course you did!" She took a deep breath. "Please, let's not argue. What happened was scary, and awful, but now it's over. We're here, we're together, and we're both in one piece. All I want is to relax and enjoy the warmth of your body next to mine."

Eyes downcast, he said, "Forgive me. I did not mean to imply that your actions were anything less than appropriate and professional. Perhaps I _am_ reacting to the tensions of the past few days."

She placed her hand gently on his forearm. "I know that you are. We both are. Let's just turn off the lights and go to sleep."

He nodded, so she leaned close and kissed him tenderly on the lips, told the computer to turn off the light, and settled onto the bed. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

...

Staring at the ceiling, Spock replayed their discussion. How had he allowed it to get away from him like that? He had opened her gown, truly curious about her injuries. As he had looked at McCoy's handiwork, however, he had remembered her fragility during the long hours of the night, and he had remembered his thoughts as he sat by her bedside: his childhood, his mother's bruises, his helplessness years ago, his helplessness now, his continuing inability to tell her all she needed to know, the possibility that she deserved more than he could provide... and the next thing he knew, he was speaking of blame and recrimination, directed not only toward himself but toward her.

From where had those words come? They did not express his beliefs. Not knowing what he would say, he inhaled and turned, his mouth open to speak.

She was already asleep. He watched her for a long moment, then rolled back over.

End chapter 11


	12. Chapter 12

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 12

Uhura sat at the desk in French's quarters and carefully assembled the communication device Scotty had found under a pile of clothing. She couldn't get over the amount of harm this crude little thing had done and French's audacity at actually putting it in her dresser drawer. If she, Uhura, had wanted to hide something like this, she could have thought of a hundred better places to put it.

Finally satisfied that it would transmit at a poor enough quality to avoid arousing Torsall's suspicion but a high enough quality to provide them with a legible recording, she nodded at Admiral Kirk, who was standing nearby with Captain Ames and Spock.

"All right," she said. "We're ready. Where is French?"

"She's in the corridor with Lenox."

"Do you think she'll be able to do it?"

"Yes, I do. She's madder than hell at Torsall for lying about the 'Klingon invasion.' Turns out that he put her in contact with the Orions after having filled her head with thoughts of their lovely life together in the Empire."

Uhura shook her head in mock consternation. "Mmmm mmmm. Poor girl. Succumbing to the vagaries of love, led astray by the smooth promises of a dishonest man."

Kirk and Ames both laughed, but Spock frowned slightly as if surprised by her statement. She grinned to let him know that she was just kidding.

Walking toward the door, Ames said, "Let's not feel too sorry for this 'poor girl.' She almost made space dust out of all of you. Commander Lenox? You can bring her in now."

French seemed very small as she was escorted to her seat. While her manner was openly defiant, there was an air of vulnerability beneath, and Uhura hoped that they weren't making a mistake in letting her speak with Torsall. What if that con man convinced her that he wasn't lying? She'd blow open their entire investigation if she changed her allegiance again. Nothing to be done for it now. Uhura flipped the switch that would start the recording.

"Crewman French," Kirk said, carefully enunciating each word, "you are to contact Torsall at his office on Nistras Three. Tell him the Lexington discovered that there is no Klingon base near Epsilon Triana. Tell him you know that he was lying, and if he doesn't tell you the truth you'll go to the authorities. Be firm. Don't give him any more information than that, and don't improvise. Do you understand?"

She nodded, and Kirk said, "Speak for the record. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Kirk stepped away from the desk and joined the others, who were clustered at the side of the small room.

French hunkered over her little receiver and activated the frequency that Uhura had prepared earlier. After a moment, a cool feminine voice said, "Torsall Industries. How may I help you?"

"I wish to speak with Nolan Torsall," said French.

The smooth voice replied, "I am sorry, but Mr. Torsall is busy at the moment. Please leave your name and the nature of your call, and someone from our office will contact you."

"You don't understand. I want to talk to Nolan Torsall, and I want to talk to him now. My name is Doris French, and he will talk to me."

There was a long pause on the other end, but finally the voice said, "I will give him your name. Please hold."

A moment later, a male voice boomed out into the room. "Doris! What a pleasant surprise! I'm so glad to hear from you, my dear. What's up?"

"I'll tell you what's up, Nolan. You lied to me! The Lexington just checked out Epsilon Triana, and nothing is there."

"Really? Nothing?" Torsall said with false heartiness. "How could that be? That's as big a shock to me as it is to you."

"Stop it! Don't keep lying to me, you asshole. You said you loved me, and that we'd be together. If you don't tell me the truth, I'm going to take my information to the Federation. Then we'll see who gets the last laugh."

"You don't want to do that, Doris," Torsall said menacingly.

"Yes! I want to, and I will! Tell me now."

"All right. You want the truth? I'll tell you the truth. You're a stupid bitch, and I knew from the moment I met you that you were weak and incompetent. Where would you be without me? You'd still be cruising the bars in Hong Kong. Before you start talking to the Federation about me, remember what I know about you. Prostitution is illegal on Earth. Do you really think that anyone will believe a lying whore like you?"

Uhura looked up at Spock. This was incredible! She could tell by the sound of Torsall's voice that they had him. A megalomaniac like this would spill everything, gloating over his superiority with no regard for someone he perceived as nothing better than gutter trash.

French paused, and when she spoke, her voice was deadly in its intensity. "I don't care what happens to me anymore, Nolan. I just want to see you pay for what you did. Remember who brought you down when they lock you away."

"You're even more stupid than I thought, French. Do you think the Federation will ever put me away? I'm so much smarter than they are. Why, they don't even know that I sold them a worthless mine."

Kirk exchanged quick looks with Spock as Torsall laughed, then grabbed Lenox's padd and scribbled something. He shoved it under French's nose, and when Uhura narrowed her eyes, she could just barely make it out.

_Tell him you know about mine. You want share of profit. Find out why Klingons involved._

She nodded, then hissed, "I know about your little mine, Nolan. Did the Federation make you a rich man? If you don't give me half of your profits, I'm going to tell them about that."

Torsall didn't reply immediately, and French smiled in satisfaction. After a moment, he said, "Now, Doris. You don't want money. You just want to be a part of my life. I'm going to be leaving here in five days. Why don't we meet somewhere? I made a big mistake with you, and I'm sorry. Let's go back to the way we were."

"Why, Nolan? Why the sudden change in attitude?"

"Please, baby. Don't go to the Federation about the mine. Let me convince you. You want nice things? A big house? You name it. Just give me five days, and everything will be taken care of. We won't have to worry about the mine, ever again. And don't forget, when they discover that you were passing information to the Klingons, you'll be even guiltier than me. They'll 'rehabilitate' you so thoroughly you won't even know your name."

French frowned and looked up at Kirk, but he shrugged and gestured for her to continue.

"Uh... What do you mean?" she asked hesitantly.

The wheedling tone in Torsall's voice was replaced by a calculating one, as if he knew he had uncovered a weakness. "Why, when the Klingons destroy the Federation's operation here, they'll trace the betrayal right back to you. I made sure of that. Except for you, the only person who knows my name is my partner on Orion. So, when the Klingons attack this planet, thinking they're destroying a covert Starfleet operation, they'll wipe out all evidence of the fact that I sold a worthless mine to the Federation."

Kirk caught French's attention and made a cutting gesture across his throat. She shook her head, and Uhura saw Kirk and Spock exchange worried glances.

"You wanted me dead, Nolan," French said with a tremor in her voice. "You knew I'd be discovered, and that's why you gave me that suicide bomb. It would destroy the evidence linking you to the Klingons, me included. If I meet you in a few days, what will you do? Will you kill me then? Eventually? Well, it won't happen! I'll take care of you! It doesn't matter what happens to me! Watch your back-"

Kirk gestured wildly to Uhura, who jumped forward and cut the connection. Turning toward Ames, he said, "Tell the security team to beam down now. Tell them that Torsall may be expecting them and may be dangerous." He watched as Ames spoke into his communicator, then nodded once at Lenox. "Take her back to the brig."

Lenox grasped French's arm and marched her out of the room. Uhura looked over at Kirk as she began to take apart the communications device.

"Do you think we have him?" she asked.

"Yes. There's more than enough information on that recording to nail him."

"Fascinating," said Spock. "Evidently, he knowingly sold the Federation a worthless mine, then attempted to cover his tracks by persuading the Klingons to attack via his Orion contact. As soon as Torsall is in custody, we must contact Starfleet Command. I assume that they will wish us to verify our facts before we tell the Klingons, for the Klingon military will not be receptive to our suggestion that they, also, were the subject of an ambitious deception."

Uhura nodded. "Well, from what Torsall said, the Klingons won't attack for five more days. Since he would want to save his own skin but hasn't left yet, I'd say that's a pretty reliable figure."

"Admiral Kirk." Ames motioned Kirk over next to him. "My security team just reported that they're in the Torsall Industries building. They met with no resistance. We should hear from them at any moment."

Leaning close to Spock, Uhura touched him gently on the arm and murmured, "I wonder if Torsall was responsible somehow for getting French back into Starfleet. Imagine-from prostitution to service aboard the Enterprise!"

Spock stiffened and pulled away from her touch. "I would not put it beyond him."

She looked at him with her mouth slightly agape. Why had he pulled away like that? Before she could make him meet her eyes, Ames' communicator beeped.

"Ames here."

"Captain Ames? This is Goya. We have Torsall and are beaming back to the ship."

"Good job, Goya. Take our prisoner to the brig. We'll meet you there."

Throwing one more perplexed look Spock's way, Uhura picked up the recording equipment and followed Admiral Kirk out of the room.

... *

Nyota was very quiet as she moved around her quarters. As a matter of fact, she had said only thirty-three words to him since the early afternoon, and those had all been in the line of duty. He assumed that she was displeased, but he did not know why.

Placing his elbows on her desk, he returned his attention to the padd in his hands. Mr. Scott had reported a point six percent drop in engine efficiency since their arrival in orbit, but neither Spock nor Scott had determined the reason so far.

He heard her voice in the other room. "Computer. Play 'Nocturnes' by Claude Debussy, first movement, 'Nuages.'"

The soft, chromatic tones slid through the air. Frowning slightly, he tightened his lips and focused on the padd. Perhaps if he adjusted the rate of reaction in the intermix chamber, here, just so...

An oboe wrapped its mysterious melody around the hollow harmonies beneath and intruded on his deconstruction of the formula. He placed the padd on the desk in frustration.

"Nyota?"

She answered from the other room. "Yes?"

"I am attempting to concentrate on fuel equations. May I turn off the music?"

Coming to the doorway, she tilted her head. "It's bothering you?"

"I find it distracting, yes."

"You listen to music often while you work. Why does this distract you all of a sudden? How about if I switch to Mozart? Vivaldi? Bach?"

Detecting a note of sarcasm in her voice, he eyed her cautiously. "If it is so important that you listen to Debussy, go ahead."

The oboe sang its sinuous song again.

"No, I want to talk about this. Computer, OFF!"

Startled, he had to force himself not to react to her unexpected increase in volume. He turned off the padd and pushed it to the side. "Very well. About what do you wish to speak?"

Throwing herself into the chair on the other side of the desk, she said, "I want to know why you wouldn't let me touch you today."

He blinked at her sudden change in topic, but finally said, "I thought we were going to discuss my inability to appreciate Debussy to your satisfaction."

"No, I want to know why you got all stiff and formal, and pulled away from me."

"I prefer not to be touched. You know that."

"But I've always touched you! I'm a touchy sort of person. I touch everyone. It never bothered you before. Why now?"

"Before, we were not intimately involved. It is inappropriate-"

"As far as everyone else is concerned, nothing has changed! It's not like I'm grabbing you or throwing myself at you. Hell, remember back when we were just getting to know each other? When I sang with you in the rec lounge? I used to touch you all the time."

Without stopping to consider the effect of his words, he blurted out, "Yes! You did! But I was not comfortable telling you to stop."

Her eyes big, she grew quiet then looked away, and he knew immediately that he had committed a grave error.

"Nyota, I am sorry. I did not mean that."

Her face still averted, she whispered, "Oh, Spock. What's happening to us? Every time we're alone together, we bicker. We've been pretending that everything is fine, but except for the first few days, nothing has been right between us this entire visit. And now that I think about it, I see that it even started during our trip to England. You've become so distant recently." She faced him and rested her palms on the edge of the desk. "You're withdrawing from me, Spock, a centimeter at a time. You hold me at arm's length, and the harder I push, the more you close yourself away."

Tightening his lips, he straightened. He did not know how to respond to this.

She searched his eyes. "You close yourself away. Just. Like. That."

He still did not answer, and finally she dropped her hands and leaned back in the seat. Her manner defeated, she said, "I'm getting ready for bed. You can join me if you want, or you can return to the Enterprise. I hope that you'll stay. We may only have another day or two together, and then who knows when we'll see each other again."

He watched as she walked back to the bedroom, then rose and followed.

...

"Oh..."

Running her hands around his shoulders, she rubbed her cheek against the side of his head as he slid his lips across her neck. She had felt so desolate earlier, but when he had pulled her close without speaking, she had gone to him joyfully, a quiet relief buoying her spirit, and she wanted nothing more now than to lose herself with him. His body felt so good next to hers, it seemed like an eternity since he had touched her like this, she could feel his hardness pressing against her thigh...

He moved slightly, covering her body with his own, and she couldn't stop the small whimper before it escaped from her throat.

He drew away. "Did I hurt you?"

She clutched her side and squeezed her eyes shut. "Yes, I'm sorry, but that really hurt. I guess my injury isn't quite healed enough for this yet."

"Forgive me, Nyota. I did not mean to hurt you. Do you need to see Dr. McCoy?"

"No, no. It's nothing," she gasped. After a moment, the pain lessened to a dull ache, and she opened her eyes. "If you want, I can take care of you."

"No, of course not. You are not yet healed. Perhaps you will feel better tomorrow."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "Oh, I hope so."

"As do I."

His arm around her back, he held her so tight that she was afraid he would hurt her again, but she didn't tell him to stop. She wanted him to hold her close forever. They lay like that, neither speaking, until finally he kissed the top of her head, released her, and rolled away. She looked at his back for a long time, then closed her eyes.

End chapter 12


	13. Chapter 13

Gardens in the Rain, chapter 13

With everything calm on the bridge once again, Spock decided that the time was opportune to review the upcoming science lab schedule. The day had actually been quite monotonous. They had spent the morning in Torsall's offices gathering business records, but after that, they had returned to their more routine duties. Now, his shift was technically over, but perhaps he could complete a few more short tasks before he left. He had no sooner pulled up the schedule when Lieutenant Feinstein's voice encroached on his thoughts.

"Admiral? Message from Starfleet Command."

Kirk glanced over his shoulder. "On screen."

The weathered face of Admiral Matthews appeared before them.

"Greetings, Admiral Kirk. I wanted to tell you in person that Nolan Torsall has officially been charged with eight counts of fraud, conspiracy to commit treason, and attempted murder. In addition, our diplomatic team opened cautious discussions with the Klingon government and has already received assurances that the planned attack on Nistras Three will be postponed until they hear the evidence. We are confident that once heard, the evidence will convince them of our peaceful intent.

"So, to you, your crew, and the crew of the Lexington, congratulations on a job well done. A Federation team will arrive in two days to assess the mines on Nistras Three, at which time the Lexington will begin her next mission. You, Admiral Kirk, are to break orbit within the hour and deliver Nolan Torsall and Doris French to the authorities on Starbase Ten.

"Admiral Matthews out."

Less than one hour. He and Nyota had arranged to dine in her quarters at 1900 hours, but the Enterprise would be gone by then. He swiveled in his chair and met Kirk's eyes.

A small, sympathetic smile on his face, Kirk said, "I'll get started on the pre-departure tasks, if you want to do something else."

"Thank you, Admiral. I will return shortly."

Careful that his unruffled demeanor concealed the odd hollow sensation in his chest, Spock left the bridge.

...

Uhura looked over the shoulder of the short, round man leaning into the open comm panel and tried her best to concentrate on what they were doing. It was tough, though. There was a lot of activity in the corridor, and five people had already stopped to talk about Torsall and his plot.

"That's right, Ensign. Reconnect the loose lead. No, not there. There. Give it a try and see if it carries a signal now."

Hopefully this would be quick so she could finish getting ready for the evening. Spock would be coming before long, and she wanted to make certain that everything was perfect tonight. Now that the investigation was winding down, the Enterprise and the Lexington would have to go their separate ways, maybe even as soon as tomorrow. She was determined-no, desperate-to have one last, good night with Spock. Why had their relationship become so difficult recently? She wanted nothing more than to recapture the easy closeness of before.

"Good. Now, follow that circuit back to the source and double-check the power feed. We don't want it to get blown again."

As she spoke, she heard quiet, measured footsteps approaching from her right, but they didn't draw her full attention until they stopped. She glanced up to see that it was Spock.

She smiled quizzically. "Commander Spock! What brings you here?"

"The Enterprise just received new orders," he said softly. "We are to break orbit within the hour."

"Oh, no." Her shoulders sagged. "You don't mean it!"

"Unfortunately I do."

Noticing that they had a very interested audience, she said, "Uh, can you finish up here, Ensign? All that's left is to close the panel."

"Yes ma'am."

She nodded, and they started slowly down the corridor. When they were out of earshot, she said, "Where's the Enterprise going?"

"We are to deliver Torsall and French to Starbase Ten. After that, I do not know."

"How much time do you have until you need to return to the Enterprise?"

"Admiral Kirk assumed primary responsibility for our pre-departure preparations, but my presence will be required in approximately twenty minutes."

"All right. Well, let's try to enjoy the short time we have left. Would you like to go to the arboretum?"

"That is agreeable."

They lapsed into peaceful silence as they walked, but her soul was anything but calm. The hurtful words and tensions of the past few days filled her mind, and her chest ached from the pressure of all she wanted to say. She didn't know how he would react, however. Would he talk with her openly and honestly? Would it turn into another argument? Or would he hide behind a mask of impassivity, hurt her with yet another withdrawal? The last would be the worst, and she didn't think she could bear to see it happen again.

Eventually they entered the arboretum, and she led him to the same path they took... what? Nine days ago? It seemed like a month had passed since then.

"What do you think will happen to French and Torsall?" she asked.

"It is a given that Crewman French will be dishonorably discharged, and because she agreed to cooperate I expect her sentence to be light, perhaps a term in a rehabilitation facility. Torsall, however, will not receive such leniency. His original crime of fraud was certainly serious, but he compounded his problems exponentially when he tried to cover it up."

"You know, I've been thinking about what he did, and I wonder if he might be telling the truth about how everything just got out of hand. True, he can't be trusted, but starting a war between the Klingons and the Federation seems like an awfully drastic solution to his problems. If nothing else, he's too shrewd to think he could really get away with it. I tend to believe him, although I almost laughed in his face when he claimed that he was a victim, too."

"No doubt he will devise a more compelling argument before his trial."

"No doubt. Oh, by the way, Commander Lenox thinks he has a lead on how Torsall managed to fool the Federation about the mine. There's a clerk in the Federation Department of Mines and Minerals who used to work for Torsall Industries."

"Indeed? Fascinating."

They fell silent once more. After a few moments, she asked, "When do you think I'll see you again?"

She had tried her best to keep her voice light, but she could hear the strained quality to it. He evidently didn't notice, because he answered her question very matter-of-factly.

"It is difficult to predict without knowing our next missions. Saavik has repeatedly reminded me, however, that she wishes us to attend her 'graduation' ceremony in eighty-three days. I fail to see the significance of this ceremony, since she will simply enter the next level of education, but she seems to think that our presence is important."

Uhura smiled, despite her heavy heart. "Believe me, I've heard all about it. Why don't we plan on going?"

"That would please Saavik."

They had reached a secluded area in the back of the arboretum, and her steps slowed to a stop. Unable to read him at all, she suddenly couldn't stand this uncertainty another moment. "And what about you?" she asked softly. "Would it please you, too?"

She caught her breath when he turned toward her and she saw that his eyes were troubled. So. He did hear the question within her question, the doubt in her words.

He studied her for what seemed an eternity. They stood so close to one another that her neck began to ache as she looked up at him, but she didn't back away. His expression was open and unguarded, and she understood with a start that he was concerned about their relationship, too. Her heart began to beat faster with the realization. This was not the frigid nonreaction she had so feared.

"And what about you, Spock?" she whispered.

He opened his mouth to answer, but before he said the first word, they heard a soft whoosh, and suddenly water poured down on their heads. It was warm and gentle, just like a springtime rain. The scent of fresh, damp earth filled the air almost immediately, and the colors surrounding them intensified into a palette of clear, bright greens and reds and yellows.

Turning her face up to the unexpected shower, she laughed and held out her hands. "The sprinklers!"

"Obviously."

His lips tight with disapproval, he clearly was not at all amused by their predicament. Poor Spock! She could see that he was trying his best to retain his dignity, but it wasn't easy with water dripping off his hair and running down his face.

She grabbed his arm and tugged. Leaning close so she could be heard over the patter, she said, "Come with me! Let's find out what's going on."

They slogged down the path, but the water stopped just as they approached the entrance. A frantic young man stood by the central arboretum control. At the sound of their footsteps, he glanced up, and Uhura thought that she had never seen such a look of utter horror as when he spied his soggy guests.

His voice leaping into the upper decibel range, he squeaked, "Uh, Commander Uhura! Commander Spock! I... I'm sorry, but I hit this control instead of that one, and I meant to increase the humidity, but instead I turned on the sprinklers, uh, I mean, you know that already, but, uh..."

He grew quiet, his eyes fixed on Spock's face, and Uhura stepped forward before Spock could speak.

"At ease, Crewman. We see that it was an accident. Just be sure next time that you know which control is which."

"Uh, yes ma'am. Sorry, sirs."

"Now, if you'd like to redeem yourself, why don't you run and get us a couple of towels? After all, it wouldn't be fitting for us to drip all over the corridors."

Already heading toward the arboretum supply room, he shouted, "Yes, ma'am! Be right back."

She pushed her hair back as she turned toward Spock. "Sorry about this."

He dashed the water off his face. "It is not your fault."

"I know, but it was a heck of a way to end your time on the Lexington." She chuckled. "You have to admit that it was humorous. I've been caught in many rain showers, but never while on board a ship."

The young man reappeared with an armful of towels. "Here you go, sirs."

"Thank you."

They were quiet as they sopped up as much of the excess moisture as possible. There was no way they could avoid walking out of here wet, but at least they wouldn't leave puddles in the corridor.

She smiled wistfully at Spock as they handed the wet towels back to the crewman. "It's time for you to go back, isn't it."

"Yes."

"I'll walk you to the transporter room."

They lapsed back into silence as they left the arboretum, and she remembered their interrupted conversation. Her good humor faded. She had asked him 'What about you?'... and he hadn't answered. So much was invested in those few words, but she didn't want to repeat herself. He remembered the question. She had absolutely no doubt at all about that.

Sneaking a glance, she felt her spirits sink even lower at the solemnity of his expression. He didn't even meet her eyes. What was happening to them? She had asked him that question last night, but he had never answered it, either. Was she overreacting? Was she making herself miserable over nothing? Or was it really possible that he no longer cared like he used to? She refused to believe that, but yet, couldn't he see how unhappy she was?

A pair of crewmen passed in the corridor, and she would have smiled at their overt effort not to stare at the two damp officers if she hadn't been so sick at heart. The trip to the transporter room had never seemed so long. Finally, they turned the last corner, and the door was straight ahead.

_Please, Spock. Please. Talk to me._

She didn't say a word, but the thought screamed through her skull. Almost as if he could read her mind, his steps slowed to a stop.

His eyes on the floor, he said, "Yes, Nyota."

"Yes?" she choked out. "Yes, what?"

"Yes." He met her gaze. "Yes, it pleases me. Very much."

"What does, Spock? What pleases you? You have to be more specific, because I'm not sure anymore."

"It pleases me to be with you. More than that..." He sighed. "I do not know."

She nodded. "All right. Thank you for being honest."

"Can you accept that?"

"Yes... and no."

A hint of relief had crossed his expression at her 'yes,' but it was replaced by reserved caution when she said 'no.' She continued.

"Something has gone wrong between us, and I want nothing more than to make it right again. I'm willing to try, but I'm not convinced that you are. You say that it pleases you to 'be with me,' but is that enough? Truly? I don't want our garden to wither and die, but it will if we don't nourish it."

"Are you seeking an assurance from me? A pledge that I will attempt to 'nourish our garden'? Very well. I will give you that assurance. I am not certain, however, that we agree on what that means."

"I know."

He studied her for a moment longer, then said, "It is time for me to leave."

She nodded, and they entered the transporter room. Neither of them spoke as he stepped onto the pad without delay, and she stared into his eyes until he had dissolved in a haze of shimmery particles.

...

Spock stepped down from the transporter pad. Ignoring the curious stare of the transporter technician, he activated the intercom.

"Spock to Kirk."

"Kirk here."

"I am back on board, Admiral, but I met with a mishap while on the Lexington. An inexperienced crewman inadvertently activated the sprinklers."

Kirk chuckled. "I see. Go change and join me on the bridge as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir. Spock out."

Walking briskly toward his quarters, Spock thought about his unsettling conversation with Nyota. She had drilled him with her gaze in the arboretum, demanding no less that the total truth from him, and he had suddenly known that if he needed to terminate their relationship, that was the moment to do so. The sprinklers had interrupted him, however, and when the topic had come up again outside the transporter room, he found that he could not say it. He could not tell her that he did not need her, and he could not tell her that he did not want her.

But he also could not tell her what she wished to hear.

What _did _she wish to hear? And what did he wish to say?

He had no idea.

...

Uhura stopped just inside the door to her quarters and sighed. The table was partially set for an elegant meal, two pristine china plates surrounded by shiny cutlery, and a single long candle in the middle. Well, she wouldn't need any of this anymore. She'd deal with it later.

Walking slowly to her bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed, kicked off her boots, and flopped backward. She stared at the ceiling.

"Computer. Play 'Nocturnes' by Claude Debussy, first movement, 'Nuages.'"

_Clouds._ This is what she had requested last night. She had always loved this piece with its serenely sinuous, chromatic chord progressions.

She closed her eyes and tried to visualize white, puffy clouds on a clear blue day. Instead, however, the clouds of her imagination were gray, dark and threatening as they gathered ominously on the horizon. Their subtle menace was slow and steady, insidious, stealthy, treacherous. She'd always liked clouds before, but she didn't like these. There was no sun, no wind, no rain-just grayness, no color at all as they slid slowly across the still sky.

And nothing she could do would stop them.

End part five of "Fire, Wind, and Water: The Debussy Suite"

The next story in this series is Ondine


End file.
